Thisstoryisamazing!Iloveit! •Intense•Adorable&perfect•Hessa •
I’maddicted•Soromantic•I’mcryinganocean•IwillalwaysshipHessa•
You don’t have to be a Directioner to read this • Nerve-racking • So cute I’m
giggling•Annaisagenius•Theyfightandpisseachotheroff,butthat’swhat
makesitsorealistic•LOL—lovethis!•I’mmoreuptodateonthisstorythanI
amonmyactuallife
Wattpadreadersagree—theAfterseriesisawild,
addictingrollercoasterofaromance.#Hessaforever!
He’smoody—butthat’sexactlywhatmademefallforhim•Ilovethiswaytoo
much!•Ijustspitmywater•Thisstoryisgoingtobethedeathofme!•OMG
*facepalm*•I’mcryingandIhavegoosebumps•IlovethemsomuchXOXO•
Myheartjustmelted!•Romanticbastard•I’mgrinninglikeanidiot•Fangirling
SOHARD!•Justbuyheraringalready!•Sodarkandmysterious•Wow,that
washot.•Iwantmore.
Tomyreadersfromthestart,withso,somuchloveand
gratitude.Youmeantheentireworldtome.
prologue
Collegehadalwaysseemedsocrucial,suchanessentialpartofwhatmeasuresa
person’sworthanddeterminestheirfuture.Weliveinatimewherepeopleask
whichschoolyouwenttobeforeaskingyourlastname.FromanearlyageIwas
taught,trainedreally,toprepareformyeducation.Ithadbecomethisnecessity
thatrequiredanoverwhelmingamountofpreparationandborderlineobsession.
Every class I chose, every assignment I completed since my first day of high
school revolved around getting into college. And not just any college—my
mother had it set in her mind that I attend Washington Central University, the
sameschoolthatsheattended,butnevercompleted.
Ihadnoideathattherewouldbesomuchmoretocollegethanacademics.I
hadnoideathatchoosingwhichelectivestotakeduringmyfirstsemesterwould
seem,justafewmonthslater,liketrivialaffairs.Iwasnaïvethen,andinsome
ways I still am. But I couldn’t have possibly known what lay ahead of me.
Meeting my dorm-mate was intense and awkward from the start, and meeting
herwildgroupoffriendsevenmoreso.Theyweresodifferentfrom anyone I
had ever known and I was intimidated by their appearance, confused by their
pureinattentiontostructure.Iquicklybecameapartoftheirmadness,indulging
init...
Andthat’swhenhecreptintomyheart.
Fromourfirstencounter,Hardinchangedmylifeinwaysthatnoamountof
college prep courses or youth group lectures could have. Those movies I
watchedasateenquicklybecamemylife,andthoseridiculousplotlinesbecame
myreality.WouldIhavedoneanythingdifferentlyifIhadknownwhatwasto
come?I’mnotsure.Iwouldlovetogiveastraightanswertothat,butIcan’t.At
timesIamgrateful,soutterlylostinthemomentofpassionthatmyjudgmentis
cloudedandallIcanseeishim.Othertimes,Ithinkofthepainhecausedme,
thedeepstingoflossforwhoIhadbeen,thechaosofthosemomentswhenIfelt
asifmyworldhadbeenturnedupsidedown,andtheanswerisn’tasclearasit
oncewas.
AllthatI’mcertainofisthatmylifeandmyheartwillneverbethesame,not
afterHardincrashedintothem.
chapterone
My alarm is set to go off any minute. I’ve been awake for half the night,
shiftingbackandforth,countingthelinesbetweentheceilingtilesandrepeating
the course schedule in my head. Others may count sheep; I plan. My mind
doesn’tallowabreakfromplanning,andtoday, the most important day in my
entireeighteenyearsoflife,isnoexception.
“Tessa!”Ihearmymother’svoicecallfromdownstairs.Groaningtomyself,I
roll out of my tiny bed. I take my time tucking the corners of my bedsheet
againsttheheadboard,becausethisisthelastmorningthatthiswillbeapartof
myregularroutine.Aftertoday,thisbedroomisnolongermyhome.
“Tessa!”shecallsagain.
“I’mup!”Iyellback.Thenoiseofthecabinetsopeningandslammingclosed
downstairs makes it known that she is feeling just as panicked as I am. My
stomachistiedinatightknot,andasIstartmyshowerIpraythattheanxietyI
feelwilllessenasthedaygoeson.Allofmylifehasbeenaseriesoftasksin
preparationforthisday,myfirstdayofcollege.
I spent the last few years nervously anticipating this. I spent my weekends
studying and preparing for this as my peers were hanging out, drinking, and
doingwhateverelseitisteenagersdotogetthemselvesintrouble.Thatwasn’t
me.Iwasthegirlwhospenthernightsstudyingcross-leggedonthelivingroom
floorwithmymotherwhileshegossipedandwatchedhoursofQVCtofindnew
waystoimproveherappearance.
The day my acceptance letter to Washington Central University came I
couldn’thavebeenmorethrilled—andmymothercriedforwhatfeltlikehours.
Ican’tdenythatIwasproudthatallmyhardworkhadfinallypaidoff.Igotinto
the only college I applied for and, because of our low income, I have enough
grantstokeepmystudentloanstoaminimum.Ihadonce,for justamoment,
consideredleavingWashingtonforcollege.Butseeingallthecolordrainfrom
my mother’s face at the suggestion, and the way she paced around the living
roomfornearlyanhour,ItoldherIreallyhadn’tbeenseriousaboutthat.
ThemomentIstepintothesprayofshowerwatersomeofthetensionleaves
mystrainedmuscles.I’mstandinghere,underthehotwater,tryingtocalmmy
mind, but really doing the opposite, and I get so distracted that by the time I
finally wash my hair and body, I barely have enough hot water to run a razor
overmylegsfromthekneesdown.
AsIwrapthetowelaroundmywetbody,mymothercallsmynameyetagain.
Knowingthatit’shernervesgettingthebestofher,Igivehersomeleewaybut
takethetimetoblow-drymyhair.Iknowthatshe’sanxiousformyarrivalday
atcollege,butIhavehadthisdayplanneddowntothehourformonths.Only
oneofuscanbeanervouswreck,andIneedtodowhatIcantomakesureit’s
notmebyfollowingmyplan.
MyhandsshakeasIfumblewiththezipperonmydress.Idon’tcareforthe
thing, but my mother insisted that I wear it. I finally win the battle with the
zipper,andpullmyfavoritesweaterfromthebackofmyclosetdoor.Assoonas
I’mdressed,Ifeelslightlylessnervous,untilInoticeasmalltearonthesleeve
of my sweater. I toss it back onto my bed and slip my shoes onto my feet,
knowing that my mother is growing more impatient with every second that
passes.
Myboyfriend,Noah,willbeheresoontorideupwithus.He’sayearyounger
thanmebutwillturneighteensoon.He’sbrilliantandhasstraightA’sjustlikeI
did, and—I’m so excited—he’s planning on joining me at WCU next year. I
really wish he was coming now, especially considering that I won’t know a
singlepersonatcollege,butI’mthankfulthathe’spromisedtovisitasoftenas
possible.Ijustneedadecentroommate;that’stheonlythingI’maskingforand
theonlythingIcan’tcontrolwithmyplanning.
“Ther-e-saaaa!”
“Mother,I amcomingdown now.Please do not scream my nameagain!” I
yellasIwalkdownthestairs.Noahissittingatthetableacrossfrommymother,
staringdown atthe watchon hiswrist. Theblue ofhis poloshirt matchesthe
light blue of his eyes, and his blond hair is combed and lightly gelled to
perfection.
“Hey,collegegirl.”Hesmilesabright,perfectlylinedsmileashestands.He
pulls me into a tight hug and I close my mouth when I catch his excessive
cologne.Yeah,sometimesheoverdoesitabitwiththat.
“Hey.”Igivehimanequallybrightsmile,tryingtohidemynerves,andpull
mydirtyblondhairintoaponytail.
“Honey,we canwaitacouple minutes whileyoufix your hair,”my mother
saysquietly.
I make my way to the mirror and nod; she’s right. My hair needs to be
presentablefortoday, andofcourse she didn’thesitatetoremind me. Ishould
havecurleditthewayshelikesanyhow,asalittlegoodbyegift.
“I’llputyourbagsinthecar,”Noahoffers,openinghispalmformymotherto
dropthekeysinto.Withaquickkissonmycheekhedisappearsfromtheroom,
bagsinhand,andmymotherfollowshim.
Round two of styling my hair ends with a better result than the first, and I
brushalintrollerovermygraydressonelasttime.
AsIgooutsideandwalktothecarpackedupwithmythings,thebutterflies
inmystomachdancearound,makingmeslightlyrelievedthatIhaveatwo-hour
drivetomakethemdisappear.
Ihavenoideawhatcollegewillbelike,and,unexpectedly,thequestionthat
keepsdominatingmythoughtsis:WillImakeanyfriends?
chaptertwo
IwishIcouldsaythatthefamiliarsceneryofmyhomestatecalmedmeaswe
drove,orthatasenseofadventuretookholdofmewitheachsignthatindicated
weweregettingcloserandclosertoWashingtonCentral.ButreallyIwasmostly
in a daze of planning and obsessing. I’m not even sure what Noah was really
talkingabout,butIknowhewastryingtobereassuringandexcitedforme.
“Hereweare!” mymothersquealswhenwedrivethroughastone gateand
ontocampus.Itlooksjustasgreatinpersonasitdidinthebrochuresandonline,
and I’m immediately impressed by the elegant stone buildings. Hundreds of
people,parentshuggingandkissingtheirchildrengoodbye,clustersoffreshmen
dressedheadtotoeinWCUgear,andafewstragglers,lostandconfused,fillthe
area.Thesizeofthecampusisintimidating,buthopefullyafterafewweeksI
willfeelathome.
MymotherinsiststhatsheandNoahaccompanymetofreshmanorientation.
MymothermanagestoholdasmileonherfacetheentirethreehoursandNoah
listensintently,thesamewaythatIdo.
“Iwouldliketoseeyourdormroombeforeweheadout.Ineedtomakesure
everything’suptopar,”mymothersaysonceorientationisover.Hereyesscan
the old building, full of disapproval. She has a way of finding the worst in
things.Noahsmiles,lighteningthemood,andmymotherperksup.
“I just can’tbelieve you’re in college! My only daughter,a college student,
livingonherown.Ijustcan’tbelieveit,”shewhines,dabbingunderhereyes,
thoughcarefulnottomessuphermakeup.Noahfollowsbehindus,carryingmy
bagsaswenavigatethroughthecorridors.
“It’sB22...weareinChall,”Itellthem.Luckily,IseealargeBpaintedon
thewall. “Down here,” I instructwhen my mother begins toturn the opposite
way.I’mthankfulthatIonlybroughtafewclothes,ablanket,andsomeofmy
favoritebooksalongsoNoahdoesn’thavetoomuchtocarryandIwon’thave
toomuchtounpack.
“B22,”my motherhuffs.Herheels areoutrageously high for the amount of
walking we endure. At the end of a long hallway, I slide the key into the old
woodendoor,andwhenitcreaksopenmymotherletsoutaloudgasp.Theroom
issmall,withtwosinglebedsandtwodesks.Afteramoment,myeyestravelto
the reason behind my mother’s surprise: one side of the room is covered in
music posters of bands that I’ve never heard of, the faces on them covered in
piercingsandtheirbodieswithtattoos.Andthenthere’sthegirllyingacrossone
bed,andherbrightredhair,eyeslinedwithwhatlookslikeinchesofblackliner,
andarmscoveredincolorfultattoos.
“Hey,”shesays,offeringasmile,asmilethatIfindquiteintriguing,muchto
my surprise. “I’m Steph.” She sits up on her elbows, causing her cleavage to
pushtightagainstherlaced-uptop,andIgentlykickatNoah’sshoewhenhis
eyesfocusonherchest.
“H-hey.I’mTessa,”Ichoke,allofmymannersflyingoutthedoor.
“Hey,Tessa,nicetomeetyou.WelcometoWCU,wherethedormsaretiny
and the parties are huge.” The crimson-haired girl grins wider. Her head falls
backintoafitoflaughterasshetakesinthethreehorrifiedexpressionsinfront
ofher.Mymother’sjawiswideopen,practicallyonthecarpet,andNoahshifts
uncomfortably.Stephwalksover,closingthegapbetweenus,andwrapsherthin
armsaroundmybody.I’mfrozenforamoment,surprisedbyheraffection,butI
returnherkindgesture.AknocksoundsatthedoorjustasNoahdropsmybags
ontothefloor,andIcan’thelpbuthopethatthisisallsomesortofjoke.
“Come in!” my new roommate yells. The door opens and two boys walk
insidebeforeshefinisheshergreeting.
Boys inside the female dorms on the first day? Maybe Washington Central
wasabaddecision.OrperhapsIcouldhavefoundawaytoscreenmyroommate
first? I assume by the pained expression covering my mother’s face that her
thoughtshavetakenthesamecourse.Thepoorwomanlookslikeshemightpass
outanymoment.
“Hey, you Steph’s roomie?” one of the boys asks. His blond hair is styled
straight up and there are sections of brown peeking through. His arms are
scatteredwithtattoosandtheearringsinhiseararethesizeofanickel.
“Um...yes.MynameisTessa,”Imanagetosay.
“I’mNate.Don’tlooksonervous,”hesayswithasmile,reachingouttotouch
myshoulder.“You’llloveithere.”Hisexpressioniswarmandinvitingdespite
hisharshappearance.
“I’mready,guys,”Stephsays,grabbingaheavyblackbagfromherbed.My
eyesshifttothetallbrown-hairedboyleaningagainstthewall.Hishairisamop
ofthickwavesonhishead,pushedbackoffhisforehead,andhehasmetalinhis
eyebrowandlip.MyfocusmovesdownhisblackT-shirttohisarms,whichare
alsocoveredintattoos;notaninchofuntouchedskinisseen.UnlikeSteph’sand
Nate’s,hisappeartobeallblack,gray,andwhite.He’stall,lean,andIknowthat
I’mstaringathiminthemostimpoliteway,butIcan’tseemtolookaway.
I expect him to introduce himself the way that his friend did, but he stays
quiet,rollinghiseyesinannoyanceandpullingacellphonefromthepocketof
histightblackjeans.Hedefinitelyisn’tasfriendlyasStephorNate.He’smore
appealing,though;somethingabouthimmakesithardtotearmyeyesfromhis
face.I’mvaguelyawareofNoah’seyesonmeasIfinallylookawayandpretend
Iwasstaringoutofshock.
Becausethat’swhatitis,right?
“Seeyouaround,Tessa,”Natesaysandthethreeofthemexittheroom.Ilet
out a long breath. Calling the last few minutes uncomfortable would be an
understatement.
“You’regettinganewdorm!”mymotherroarsassoonasthedoorclicksshut.
“No, I can’t.”I sigh. “It’s fine, Mother.” I do my best to hide my nerves. I
don’tknowhowwellthiswillworkout,either,butthelastthingIwantismy
overbearing mother causing a scene on my first day of college. “I’m sure she
won’tbearoundmuchatallanyway,”Itrytoconvinceher,alongwithmyself.
“Absolutelynot.Wearegoingtoswitchnow.”Hercleanappearanceclashes
with the anger in her face; her long blond hair is flipped to one shoulder, yet
everycurlisstillperfectlyintact.“Youwillnotroomwithsomeonewhoallows
meninlikethat—thosepunks,atthat!”
Ilookintohergrayeyes,thentoNoah.“Mother,please,let’sjustseehowit
goes.Please,”Ibeg.Ican’tbegintoimaginethemessitwouldcreatetryingto
getalast-minutedormchange.Andhowhumiliatingitwouldfeel.
My mother looks around to the room again, taking in the décor covering
Steph’sside,andhuffsdramaticallyatthedarktheme.
“Fine,”shespitsout,muchtomysurprise.“Butwe’regoingtohavealittle
talkbeforeIgo.”
chapterthree
An hour later, after listening to my mother warn me against the dangers of
partiesandcollegemen—andusingsomelanguagethat’sratheruncomfortable
forNoahandmetohearfromher—shefinallymakeshermovetoleave.Inher
usualstyle,aquickhugandkiss,sheexitsthedormroom,informingNoahthat
shewillwaitforhiminthecar.
“I’llmisshavingyouaroundeveryday,”hesayssoftlyandpullsmeintohis
arms.Iinhalehiscologne,theoneIboughthimtwoChristmasesinarow,and
sigh.Someoftheoverpoweringscenthaswornoff,andIrealizethatI’llmiss
thissmellandthecomfortandfamiliaritythatgoalongwithit,nomatterhow
manytimesIcomplainedaboutitinthepast.
“I’llmissyou,too,butwecantalkeveryday,”Ipromiseandtightenmyarms
aroundhistorsoandnuzzleintohisneck.“Iwishyouwereherethisyear.”Noah
isonlyafewinchestallerthanme,butIlikethathedoesn’ttoweroverme.My
mother used to tease me growing up, claiming that a man grows an inch for
everyliehetells.Myfatherwasatallman,soIwon’targuewithherlogicthere.
Noahbrusheshislipsacrossmine...andjustthenIhearahornhonkingin
theparkinglot.
Noah laughs and breaks away from me. “Your mom. She’s persistent.” He
kissesmeonthecheekandhurriesoutthedoor,yelling,“Callyoutonight!”as
hegoes.
Left alone, I think about his hasty exit for just a moment and thenbeginto
unpackmybags.Shortly,halfmyclothesareneatlyfoldedandstoredinoneof
the small dressers; the remainder are hung neatly in my closet. I cringe at the
sheer amount of leather and animal print filling the other closet. Still, my
curiositydoes get thebest of me and I find myself running my finger along a
dressmadeofsomesortofmetal,andanotherthat’ssothinit’sbarelythereat
all.
Feeling the beginnings of exhaustion from the day, I lie across the bed. An
unfamiliarlonelinessiscreepingitswayintomealready,anditdoesn’thelpthat
myroommateisgone,nomatterhowuncomfortableherfriendsmakeme.Ihave
afeelingshewillbegonealot,or,worse,shemayhavecompanyovertoooften.
Whycouldn’tIgetaroommatewholovedtoreadandstudy?Isupposeitcould
beagoodthing,becauseIwillhavethesmallroomtomyself,butIdon’thavea
goodfeelingaboutanyofthis.SofarcollegeisneitherwhatIhaddreamedof
norexpected.
Iremindmyselfthat it’sonly been afewhours. Tomorrow willbebetter.It
hastobe.
Igathermyplannerandtextbooks,takingthetimetowritedownmyclasses
forthesemesterandmypotentialmeetingsfortheliteraryclubIplanonjoining;
I’m still undecided on that, but I read a few student testimonials and want to
checkitout.Iwanttotrytofindagroupoflike-mindedpeopleIcantalkto.I
don’t expect to make a lot of friends, just enough that I can have someone to
maybe eat a meal with every once in a while. I plan for a trip off campus
tomorrowtogetsomemorethingsformydormroom.Idon’twanttocrowdmy
sideoftheroomthewaythatStephhas,butIwouldliketoaddafewthingsof
myowntomakemefeelmoreathomeintheunfamiliarspace.ThefactthatI
don’thaveacaryetwillmakeitalittledifficult.ThesoonerIgetone,thebetter.
Ihaveenoughmoneyfromgraduationgiftsandsavingsfrommysummerjobat
abookstore,butI’mnotsureifIwantthestressofowningacarrightnow.The
fact that I live on campus gives me full access to public transport, and I’ve
already researched the bus lines. With thoughts of schedules, red-haired girls,
andunfriendly mencovered in tattoos, I drift to sleepwith myplanner stillin
hand.
THENEXTMORNINGStephisnotinherbed.Iwouldliketogettoknowher,
butthatmightbedifficultifshe’sneveraround.Maybeoneofthetwoboysthat
shewaswithwasherboyfriend?Forhersake,Ihopeitwastheblondone.
Grabbingmytoiletrybag,Imakemywaytotheshowerroom.Icanalready
tellthatoneofmyleastfavoritethingsaboutdormlifeisgoingtobetheshower
situation—Iwisheachoftheroomshadtheirownbathrooms.It’sawkward,but
atleasttheywon’tbecoed.
Or...Ihadassumedtheywouldn’tbe—wouldn’teveryoneassumethat?But
when I reach the door, sure enough, there are two stick figures printed on the
sign,onemaleandonefemale.Ugh.I can’tbelievetheyletthiskindof thing
happen.Ican’tbelieveIdidn’tuncoveritwhileIwasresearchingWCU.
Spotting an open shower stall, I skirt through the half-naked boys and girls
quickly,pullthecurtainclosedtight,andundress,thenhangmyclothesonthe
rackoutsidebyblindlypokingonehandoutofthecurtain.Theshowertakestoo
longtogetwarmandtheentiretimeI’minthereI’mparanoidthatsomeonewill
pull back the thin curtainseparating my naked body from the restof the guys
andgirlsoutthere.Everyoneseemstobecomfortablewithhalf-nakedbodiesof
both genders walking around; college life is strange so far, and it’s only the
secondday.
Theshowerstallistiny,linedwithasmallracktohangmyclothesonwhileI
shower and barely enough room to stretch my arms in front of me. I find my
minddriftingtoNoahandmylifebackhome.Distracted,Iturnaroundandmy
elbowknocksintotherack,knockingmyclothestothewetfloor.Theshower
poursontothem,completelysoakingthem.
“You’vegottobekiddingme!”Igroantomyself,hastilycuttingthewateroff
andwrappingmytowelaroundmyself.Igrabmypileofheavy,soakedclothes
andrushdownthehall,desperatelyhopingnooneseesme.Ireachmyroomand
shovethekeyin,instantlyrelaxingwhenIpushthedoorclosedbehindme.
Until I turn around to see the rude, tattooed, brown-haired boy sprawled
acrossSteph’sbed.
chapterfour
Um...WhereisSteph?”Itrytosoundauthoritative,butmyvoicecomesout
asmoreofasqueak.Myhandsareclenchedaroundthesoftfabricofmytowel
and my eyes keep darting down to make sure it’s actually covering my naked
body.
Theboylooksatme,thecornersofhismouthliftingslightly,butdoesn’tsaya
word.
“Didyouhearme?IaskedyouwhereStephis,”Irepeat,tryingtobeslightly
morepolitethistime.
Theexpressiononhisfacemagnifiesandhefinallymumbles,“Idon’tknow,”
andturnsonthesmallflatscreenonSteph’sdresser.Whatisheevendoingin
here?Doesn’thehavehisownroom?Ibitemytongue,tryingtokeepmyrude
commentstomyself.
“Okay?Well,couldyoulike...leaveorsomethingsoIcangetdressed?”He
hasn’tevennoticedI’minatowel.Ormaybehehasbutitdoesn’timpresshim.
“Don’tflatteryourself,it’snotlikeI’mgoingtolookatyou,”hescoffsand
rollsover,hishandscoveringhisface.HehasathickEnglishaccentthatIdidn’t
notice at first. Probably because he was too rude to actually speak to me
yesterday.
Unsure how I should respond to his rude remark, I huff and walk to my
dresser.Maybeheisn’tstraight,maybethat’swhathemeantby“it’snotlikeI’m
goingtolook.”Eitherthatorhefindsmeunattractive.Ihastilyputonabraand
panties,followedbyaplainwhiteshirtandkhakishorts.
“Areyoudoneyet?”heasks,snappingthelastbitofpatienceIheld.
“Could you be any more disrespectful? I did nothing to you. What is your
problem?!”Ishout,muchlouderthanIhadwantedto,butbythesurprisedlook
onhisface,mywordshadtheintendedeffect.
Hesilentlystaresatmeforamoment.AndwhileIawaitforhisapology...
heburstsintolaughter.Hislaughisdeepandwouldbeanalmostlovelysoundif
he didn’t come off so unpleasant. Dimples indent both of his cheeks as he
continueson,andIfeellikeacompleteidiot,unsurewhattodoorsay.Idon’t
usuallylikeconflictandthisboyseemslikethelastpersonIshouldstartafight
with.
ThedooropensandStephburstsin.
“SorryI’mlate.I haveahellofahangover,”shesaysdramatically,andher
eyesdartbackandforthbetweenthetwoofus.“Sorry,Tess,Iforgottotellyou
Hardinwouldbecomingby.”Sheshrugsapologetically.
IwouldliketothinkmeandStephcouldmakeourlivingarrangementwork,
maybeevenbuildsomesortofafriendship,butwithherchoiceoffriendsand
latenights,I’mjustnotsureanymore.
“Yourboyfriendisrude.”ThewordstumbleoutbeforeIcanstopthem.
Stephlooksoverattheboy.Andthentheybothburstintolaughter.Whatisit
withpeoplelaughingatme?It’sgettingreallyannoying.
“Hardin Scott is not my boyfriend!” she spits out, nearly choking. Calming
down, she turns and scowls at this Hardin. “What did you say to her?” Then,
lookingbackatme:“Hardinhasa...auniquewayofconversing.”
Lovely,sobasicallywhatsheissayingisthatHardinis,simply,athiscore,a
rudeperson.TheEnglishboyshrugsandchangesthechannelwiththeremotein
hishand.
“Thereisapartytonight;youshouldcomewithus,Tessa,”shesays.
Sonowit’smyturntolaugh.
“Partiesaren’treallymy thing.Plus Ihave togo toget somethings formy
deskandwalls.”IlookatHardin,who,ofcourse,isactingasifneitherofusis
intheroomwithhim.
“C’mon. .. it’sjust one party! You’re in college now, justone partywon’t
hurt,” she begs. “Wait, how are you getting to the store? I thought you didn’t
haveacar?”
“Iwasgoingtotakethebus.Andbesides,Ican’tgotoaparty—Idon’teven
knowanyone,” I say,and Hardin laughs again—a subtleacknowledgment that
he’llpayjustenoughattentiontomockme.“IwasgoingtoreadandSkypewith
Noah.”
“You don’t want to take the bus on a Saturday! They’re way too packed.
Hardincandropyouonthewaytohisplace...right,Hardin?Andyou’llknow
me at the party. Just come . . . please?” She presses her hands together in a
dramaticplea.
I’veonlyknownherforaday;shouldItrusther?Mymother’swarningabout
parties goes through my head. Steph seems quite sweet, from the small
interactionthatI’vehadwithher.Butaparty?
“Idon’tknow...and,no,Idon’twantHardintodrivemetothestore,”Isay.
Hardin rolls over across Steph’s bed with an amused expression. “Oh no! I
wasreallylookingforwardtohangingoutwithyou,”hedrylyreplies,hisvoice
so full of sarcasm that I want to throw a book at his curly head. “Come on,
Steph,youknowthisgirlisn’tgoingtoshowattheparty,”hesays,laughing;his
accent is so thick. The curious side of me, which I admit is quite large, is
desperate to ask him where he is from. The competitive side of me wants to
provethatsmugfaceofhiswrong.
“Actually,yeah,I’llcome,”IsaywithassweetasmileasIcanmanage.“It
soundslikeitmightbefun.”
Hardin shakes his head in disbelief and Steph squeals before wrapping her
armsaroundmeinatighthug.
“Yay! We’ll have so much fun!” she shrieks. And a big part of me is
practicallyprayingthatshe’llberight.
chapterfive
I’mthankfulwhenHardinfinallyleavessoStephandIcandiscusstheparty.I
needmoredetailstoeasemynerves,andhavinghimaroundisnohelpatall.
“Whereistheparty?Isitwithinwalkingdistance?”Iaskher,tryingtosound
calmasIalignmybooksneatlyontheshelf.
“Technically, it’s a frat party, at one of the biggest frat houses here.” Her
mouthiswideopenasshelayersmoremascaraontoherlashes.“It’soffcampus,
sowewon’tbewalkingbutNatewillpickusup.”
I’m grateful it won’t be Hardin, even though I know he will be there.
Somehowridingwithhimseemsunbearable.Whyishesorude?Ifanything,he
should be grateful that I’m not judging him for the way he has destroyed his
bodywithholesandtattoos.Okay,maybeIamjudginghimalittle,butnottohis
face.I’matleastpoliteaboutourdifferences.Inmyhome,tattoosandpiercings
are not a normal thing. I always had to have my hair combed, my eyebrows
plucked,andmyclothescleanandironed.It’sjustthewayitis.
“Didyouhearme?”Stephsaysandinterruptsmythoughts.
“I’m sorry . . . what?” I hadn’trealized my mind had wandered to the rude
boy.
“Isaidlet’sgetready—youcanhelpmepickmyoutfit,”shesays.Thedresses
shepicksoutaresoinappropriatethatIkeeplookingaroundforahiddencamera
andsomeonetojumpoutandtellmethisisallajoke.Icringeateachoneand
shelaughs,obviouslyfindingmydistastehumorous.
Thedress—no,pieceofscrapmaterial—shechoosesisablackfishnet,which
lets her red bra show through. The only thing keeping her from showing her
entirebodyisasolidblackslip.Thedressbarelyreachesthetopsofherthighs
and she keeps tugging the material up to reveal more leg, then back down to
reveal more cleavage. The heels of her shoes are at least four inches tall. Her
flaming red hair is pulled into a wild bun with curls escaping down to her
shouldersandhereyesarelinedwithblueandblackliner,somehowevenmore
eyelinerthanshehadonbefore.
“Didyourtattooshurt?”IaskherasIpulloutmyfavoritemaroondress.
“Thefirstonesortofdid,butnotasbadasyouwouldthink.It’salmostlikea
beestingingyouoverandover,”shesayswithashrug.
“That sounds terrible,” I tell her and she laughs. It occurs to me that she
probablyfindsmeasstrangeasIfindher.Thatwe’rebothunfamiliarwitheach
otherisoddlycomforting.
Shegapesatmydress.“You’renotreallywearingthat,areyou?”
Myhandslidesoverthefabric.Thisismynicestdress,myfavoritedress,and
it’snotlikeIreallyhaveallthatmany.“Whatiswrongwithmydress?”Iask,
trying to hide how offendedI am. The maroon material is soft but sturdy, the
samematerialbusinesssuitsaremadeof.Thecollargoesuptomyneckandthe
sleevesarethree-quarterlength,hittingjustundermyelbows.
“Nothing...it’sjustso...long?”shesays.
“It’sbarelybelowmyknee.”Ican’ttellifshecanseeI’moffendedornot,but
forsomereasonIdon’twanthertoknowthisaboutme.
“It’s pretty. I justthink it’s a littletoo formal fora party.You could borrow
something of mine?” she says in all sincerity. I cringe at the idea of trying to
squeezeintooneofhertinydresses.
“Thanks,Steph.I’mfinewearingthis,though,”Isayandpluginmycurling
iron.
chaptersix
Later, when my hair is perfectly curled and lying down my back, I push two
bobbypinsin,oneoneachsidetokeepitoutofmyface.
“Do you want to use some of my makeup?” Steph asks, and I look in the
mirroragain.
My eyes always look a little too large for my face, but I prefer to wear
minimalmakeupandusuallyjustputonalittlemascaraandlipbalm.
“Maybealittleeyeliner?”Isay,stillunsure.
With a smile, she hands me three pencils: one purple, one black, and one
brown.Irollthemaroundinmyfingers,decidingbetweentheblackandbrown.
“Thepurplewilllookgreatwithyoureyes,”shesays,andIsmilebutshake
myhead.“Youreyesaresounique—wanttotrade?”shejokes.
But Steph has beautifulgreen eyes; whywould she even joke about trading
withme?Itaketheblackpencilanddrawthethinnestpossiblelinearoundboth
eyes,earningaproudsmilefromSteph.
Herphonebuzzesandshegrabsherpurse.“Nate’shere,”shesays.Igrabmy
purse, smooth my dress, and slip on my flat, white Toms, which she eyes but
doesn’tcommenton.
Nateiswaitingoutfrontofthebuilding,heavyrockmusicblaringoutofhis
car’s rolled-down windows. I can’t help but glance around to see everyone
staring.IkeepmyheaddownandjustasIlookup,IseeHardinleanupinthe
frontseat.Hemusthavebeenbendingdown.Ugh.
“Ladies,”Nategreetsus.
HardinglaresatmeasIclimbinbehindStephandendupgettingstucksitting
directlybehindhim.“Youdoknowthatwearegoingtoaparty, not a church,
right,Theresa?”hesays,andIglanceatthesidemirrorandfindasmirkacross
hisface.
“Pleasedon’tcallmeTheresa.IpreferTessa,”Iwarnhim.Howdoesheeven
knowthat’smyname?Theresaremindsmeofmyfather,andIwouldrathernot
hearit.
“Surething,Theresa.”
Ileanbackagainstmyseatandrollmyeyes.Ichoosenottobanterbackand
forthwithhim;it’snotworthmytime.
I stare out the window, trying to drown out the loud music as we drive.
Finally, Nate parks on the side of a busy street lined with large, seemingly
identicalhouses.Paintedinblacklettersisthenameofthefraternity,butIcan’t
makeoutthewordsbecauseoftheovergrownvinessneakingupthesideofthe
massivehouseinfrontofus.Messystringsoftoiletpapersprawlupthewhite
house, and the noise coming from inside adds to the stereotypical frat house
theme.
“It’ssobig;howmanypeoplewillbehere?”Igulp.Thelawnisfullofpeople
holdingredcups,someofthemdancing,rightthereonthelawn.I’mwayoutof
myleaguehere.
“Afullhouse,hurryup,”Hardinrespondsandgetsoutofthecar,slamming
thecardoorbehindhim.Fromthebackseat,Iwatchasmultiplepeoplehigh-five
andshakeNate’shand,ignoringHardin.Whatsurprisesmeisthatnooneelse
thatIseeiscoveredintattooslikehe,Nate,andStephare.MaybeIcanmake
somefriendsheretonightafterall.
“Coming?”Stephsayswithasmileandpopsopenherdoorandhopsout.
Inod,mostlytomyself,asIclimboutofthecar,makingsuretosmoothmy
dressagain.
chapterseven
Hardinhasalreadydisappearedintothehouse,whichisgreatbecausemaybeI
won’tseehimagainfortherestofthenight.Consideringthenumberofpeople
crammed into this place, I probably won’t. I follow Steph and Nate into the
crowded living room and am handed a red cup. I turn to decline with a polite
“No,thankyou,”butit’stoolateandIdon’thaveacluewhogaveittome.Iput
thecupon the counterandcontinueto walk throughthehousewith them. We
stopwalkingwhenwereachagroupofpeoplecrowdedonandaroundacouch.I
assumetheyarefriendswithSteph,giventheirappearance.Theyarealltattooed
likeher,andsittinginarowonthecouch.Unfortunately,Hardinisontheright
armofthecouch,butIavoidlookingathimasStephintroducesmetothegroup.
“ThisisTessa,myroommate.ShejustgothereyesterdaysoIfiguredIwould
showheragoodtimeforherfirstweekendatWCU,”sheexplains.
One by one they nod or smile at me. All of them seem so friendly, except
Hardin, of course. A very attractive boy with olive-toned skin reaches out his
hand and shakes mine. His hands are slightly cold from the drink he was
holding,buthissmileiswarm.Thelightreflectsoffhismouth,andIthinkIspot
apieceofmetalonhistongue,buthecloseshismouthtooquicklyformetobe
sure.
“I’mZed.What’syourmajor?”heasksme.Inoticehiseyestraveldownmy
bulkydressandhesmilesalittlebutdoesn’tsayanything.
“I’manEnglishmajor,”Isayproudly,smiling.HardinsnortsbutIignorehim.
“Awesome,”hesays.“I’mintoflowers.”ZedlaughsandIreturnone.
Flowers?Whatdoesthatevenmean?
“Wantadrink?”heasksbeforeIcaninquirefurtheraboutflowers.
“Oh,no.Idon’tdrink,”Itellhimandhetriestohidehissmile.
“LeaveittoStephtobringLittleMissPrisstoaparty,”atinygirlwithpink
hairsaysunderherbreath.
IpretendnottohearhersoIcanavoidanykindofconfrontation.MissPriss?
I’minnoway“prissy,”butIhaveworkedandstudiedhardtogetwhereIam,
andsincemyfatherleftusmymotherhasworkedherentirelifetomakesureI
haveagoodfuture.
“I’mgoingtogetsomeair,”Isayandturntowalkaway.Ineedtoavoidparty
drama at all costs. I don’t need to make any enemies when I don’t have any
friendstobeginwith.
“Doyouwantmetocomewithyou?”Stephcallsafterme.
Ishakemyheadandmakemywaytothedoor.IknewIshouldn’thavecome.
Ishouldbeinmypajamascurledupwithanovelrightnow.IcouldbeSkyping
with Noah, whom I miss terribly. Even sleeping would be better than sitting
outside this dreadful party with a bunch of drunken strangers. I decide to text
Noah. I walk to the edge of the yard, since it seems to be the least crowded
space.
Imissyou.Collegeisn’tveryfunsofar.Ihitsendandsitonthestonewallwaitingfor
hisreply.Agroupofdrunkgirlswalkbygigglingandstumblingovertheirown
feet.
Herespondsquickly:Whynot?Imissyoutoo,Tessa.IwishIwastherewithyouandIsmile
athiswords.
“Shit,sorry!”amalevoicesaysandasecondlaterIfeelcoldliquidsoakthe
frontofmydress.Theguystumblesandpullshimselfuptoleanagainstthelow
wall.“Mybad,really,”hemumblesandsitsdown.
Thispartycouldnotgetanyworse.Firstthatgirlcalledmeprissy,andnow
mydressissoakedwithGodknowswhattypeofalcohol—anditreallysmells.
Sighing,Ipickupmyphoneandwalkinsidetofindabathroom.Ipushmyway
throughthecrowdedhallandtrytoopeneverydoorontheway,noneofthem
budging.Itrynottothinkaboutwhatpeoplearedoingintherooms.
Imakemywayupstairsandcontinuemyhuntforabathroom.Finally,oneof
the doors does open. Unfortunately, it’s not a bathroom. It’s a bedroom, and,
evenmoreunfortunateforme,it’soneinwhichHardinislyingacrossthebed
whilethepink-hairedgirlstraddleshislap,hermouthcoveringhis.
chaptereight
Thegirl turns around and looksat meas I try to movemy feet, but they just
won’tbudge.“CanIhelpyou?”shesnarks.
Hardin sits up with her still on his torso. His face is flat—not amused or
embarrassedatall.Hemustdothistypeofthingallthetime.Hemustbeusedto
beingcaughtinfrathousespracticallyhavingsexwithstrangegirls.
“Oh...no.Sorry,I...I’mlookingforabathroom,someonespilledadrink
onme,”Iquicklyexplain.Thisissouncomfortable.Thegirlpresseshermouth
againstHardin’sneckandIlookaway.Thesetwoseemtobeagoodmatch.Both
tattooed,andbothrude.
“Okay? So go find a bathroom.” She rolls her eyes and I nod, leaving the
room.AfterthedoorclosesIleanmybackagainstit.Sofarcollegeisn’tfunat
all.Ijustcan’twrapmyheadaroundhowapartylikethiscouldbeconsidered
fun.Insteadoftryingtofindabathroom,Idecidetofindthekitchenandclean
myself off there. The last thing I want to do is open another door and find
drunkenhormonalcollegestudentsontopofoneanother.Again.
Thekitchenisn’ttoohardtofind,butit’scrowdedsincemostofthealcohol
supply is in ice buckets on the counter and stacks of pizza boxes fill the
countertops.Ihavetoreacharoundabrunettepukinginthesinktograbapaper
towel and wet it. As I wipe it over my dress, small white flakes of the cheap
paper towel cover the wet spot, making it worse. Frustrated, I groan and lean
againstthecounter.
“Havingfun?”Nateasksasheapproachesme.I’mrelievedtoseeafamiliar
face.Hesmilessweetlyandtakesasipofhisdrink.
“Notexactly...howlongdothesepartiesusuallylast?”
“Allnight...andhalfthedaytomorrow.”Helaughsandmymouthdrops.
WhenwouldStephwanttoleave?Hopefullysoon.
“Wait.”Ibegintopanic.“Who’sgoingtodriveusbacktothedorm?”Iask
him,wellawareofhisbloodshoteyes.
“Idon’tknow...youcandrivemycarifyouwant,”hesays.
“That’s really nice, but I can’t drive your car. If I wreck or get pulled over
with underage drinkers in the car I would get in so much trouble.” I can just
imaginemymother’sfaceasshebailsmeoutofjail.
“No,no,it’snotafardrive—youshouldjusttakemycar.Youhaven’teven
been drinking. If not, you’ll have to stay here, or I could ask around to see if
someone—”
“No,it’sfine.I’llfigureitout,”Imanagebeforethemusicgetsturnedwayup
and most everything is drowned out by bass and lyrics that are practically
screamed.
My decision to come to this party is proving to be worse and worse as the
nightgoeson.
chapternine
Finally, after pointing around and yelling “Steph!” like ten times at Nate, the
musicdropsintoaquietersongandhenodsandstartstolaugh.Hishandmoves
upintotheairandhepointsintothenextroom.Heisreallyasweetguy—why
doeshehangoutwithHardin?
AsIturntowhereheindicated,allIhearismyowngaspasIspother.She,
alongwith twoother girls,are dancingon atable inthe livingroom. A drunk
guyclimbsupandjoinsthem,hishandsgrippingherhips.Iexpecthertoswat
hishandsoffbutshejustsmilesandpushesherbottomagainsthim.Okay.
“They’re just dancing, Tessa,” Nate says and gives a quick chuckle at my
uneasyexpression.
Buttheyaren’tjustdancing;they’regropingandgrindingagainsteachother.
“Yeah...Iknow.”Ishrug,eventhoughitisn’tascasualtome.I’venever
dancedthatway,notevenwithNoah,andwehavebeendatingtwoyears.Noah!
Ireachintomypurseandcheckmymessagesfromhim.
YouthereTess?
Hello?Youokay?
Tessa?ShouldIcallyourmom?I’mgettingworried.
Idial him asfast as myfingers will allow, praying thathe hasn’tcalledmy
motheryet.Hedoesn’tpickup,but ItexthimassuringhimthatI’mokayand
there is no need for him to call my mother. She will lose it if she thinks
somethinghappenedtomeonmyfirstweekendofcollege.
“Heyyyy . . . Tessa!” Steph slurs and leans her head on my shoulder. “You
havingfunyet,roomie?”Shegiggles,obviouslyheavilyintoxicated.“Ithink...
I need . . . the room is starting to spend, Tess . . . I mean spin,” she says,
laughing,andherbodylurchesforward.
“She is going to get sick,” I tell Nate. He nods and lifts her into his arms,
drapingherbodyoverhisshoulder.
“Followme,”heinstructsandheadsupstairs.Heopensadoorhalfwaydown
the hall, finding a bathroom quickly, of course. Right as he places her on the
floor by the toilet, she begins to vomit. I look away but grab her red hair and
gentlyholditbackawayfromherface.
Finally,aftermorevomitthanIcanhandleseeing,shestopsandNatehands
meatowel.“Let’sgethertotheroomacrossthehallandlayheronthebed.She
isgoingtoneedtosleepitoff,”hesays.Inod,butwhatI’mreallythinkingis
thatIcan’tleaveherherealone,passedout.“Youcanstayinthere,too,”hesays,
seemingtoreadmymind.
Togetherwegetherupoffthefloorandhelpherwalkacrossthehallandinto
adarkbedroom.WegentlylayagroaningStephontothebedandNatequickly
takesoff,tellingmehe’llcheckinonuslater.IsitdownonthebednexttoSteph
andmakesureherheadiscomfortable.
Sober,with a drunkgirlbesidemeand a partyragingallaround, I feellike
I’ve hit a new low. I turn on a lamp and look around the room, my eyes
immediately going to the bookshelves that cover one of the walls. Since this
perksmymoodup,Igoovertoitandscanthroughthetitles.Whoeverownsthis
collectionisimpressive;therearemanyclassics,awholerangeofdifferenttypes
ofbooks,includingallofmyfavorites.SpyingWutheringHeights,Ipullitoff
theshelf.It’sinbadshape,thebindinggivingaway howmanytimesit’sbeen
opened.
I’msolostinEmilyBrontë’swordsthatIdon’tevennoticethechangeinlight
whenthedooropens,orthepresenceofathirdpersoninthespace.
“Whythehellareyouinmyroom?”anangryvoiceboomsfrombehindme.
Iknowthataccentbynow.
Hardin.
“I asked you what the hell you’re doing in my room,” he repeats, just as
harshlyasthefirsttime.Iturntoseehislonglegspullinghimtowardmeandhe
snatchesthebookfrommyhandandtossesitbackontotheshelf.
Mymind is whirling. I thought the party couldn’tgetany worse, but here I
am,caughtinHardin’spersonalplace.Herudelyclearshisthroatandwaveshis
handinfrontofmyface.
“NatetoldmetobringStephinhere...”Myvoiceissoft,barelyaudible.He
takesastepcloser and lets outadeepbreath. I gesture tohisbed,causing his
eyestofollowmyhand.“ShedranktoomuchandNatesaid—”
“Iheardyouthefirsttime.”Herunshishandthroughhismessyhair,clearly
upset.Whydoeshecaresomuchifweareinhisroom?Wait...
“Youareapartofthisfraternity?”Iaskhim.It’simpossibletohidetheshock
inmyvoice.HardinisfarfromwhatIimaginedafratboytobelike.
“Yeah,so?”heanswersandtakesyetanotherstepcloser.Thespacebetween
usislessthantwofeet,andwhenItrytoinchawayfromhimmybackhitsthe
bookcase.“Doesthatsurpriseyou,Theresa?”
“StopcallingmeTheresa.”Hehasmecornered.
“That’syourname,isn’tit?”Hesmirks,hismoodslightlylightening.
Isighandturnawayfromhim,basicallyfacingintothewallofbooks.Ihave
noideawhereI’mgoing,butIneedtogetawayfromHardinbeforeIslaphim.
Orcry.Ithasbeenalongday,soIwillmostlikelycrybeforeslappinghim.And
whatasightthatwouldbe.
Iturnandpushpasthim.
“She can’t stay in here,” he says as I pass. When I turn around he has the
smallringinhislipbetweenhisteeth.Whatmadehimdecidetoputaholeinhis
lipandeyebrow?Thathadtobepainful...thoughtheone piecedoesaccent
justhowfullandroundhislipsare.
“Whynot?Ithoughtyouguyswerefriends?”
“Weare,” he says, “but no one stays in my room.” His arms cross over his
chest,andforthefirsttimesinceImethim,Icanmakeouttheshapeofoneof
histattoos.It’saflower, printedinthe middle ofhiscovered forearm. Hardin,
with a flower tattoo? The black and gray design resembles a rose from this
distance, but there is something surrounding the flower that takes the beauty
fromit,addingdarknesstothedelicateform.
Feelingbraveandannoyed,Iletoutalaugh.“Oh...Isee.Soonlygirlswho
makeoutwithyoucancomeintoyourroom?”Asthewordsleavemymouthhis
smilegrows.
“Thatwasn’tmyroom.Butifyou’retryingtosayyouwanttomakeoutwith
me,sorry,you’renotmytype,”hesays.I’mnotsurewhybuthiswordshurtmy
feelings.Hardinisfarfrommytype,butIwouldneveractuallysaythattohim.
“You are . . . you are .. .” I can’tfind the words to express my annoyance
toward him. The music through the wall is like an itching sensation. I’m
embarrassed, annoyed, and exhausted from the party. Arguing with him isn’t
worthit.“Well...thenyoutakehertoanotherroom,andI’llfindawaybackto
thedorms,”Isayandheadforthedoor.
AsIgothroughitandslamitshutbehindme,eventhroughthenoiseofthe
party,IhearHardin’smocking“Goodnight,Theresa.”
chapterten
Ican’thelpthetearsthatfalldownmycheeksasIreachthetopofthestairs.I
hatecollegesofar—andmyclasseshaven’tevenstarted.Whycouldn’tIjustget
a roommate who was more like me? I should be asleep now, preparing for
Monday.Idon’tbelongatpartieslikethis,andIcertainlydon’tbelonghanging
outwiththesetypeofpeople.IdolikeSteph,butIjustdon’thaveitinmeto
dealwithascenelikethisandpeoplelikeHardin.He’ssuchamysterytome;
whymusthealwaysbesuchajerk?ButthenthenextthingIthinkofisthatwall
of books of his—why does he have all of them? There is no way a rude,
disrespectful, tattooed jerk like Hardin could possibly enjoy those amazing
works.TheonlythingIcanpicturehimreadingisthebackofabeerbottle.
Dabbing at my wet cheeks, I realize I have no idea where this house is
located,orhowtogetbacktothedorms.ThemoreIthinkaboutmydecisions
tonight,themorefrustratedandstressedIbecome.
I really should have thought this through; this is exactly why I plan
everything, so things like this don’t happen. The house is still packed and the
musicistooloud.Nateisnowheretobefound;neitherisZed.MaybeIshould
justfind a randombedroom upstairsandsleep onthe floor? Thereare atleast
fifteen rooms up there, and maybe I will get lucky and find an empty one?
Despitemyeffortstoconcealmyemotions,Ican’t,andIdon’twanttogodown
andhaveeveryoneseemelikethis.Iturnback,findthebathroomIwasinwith
Steph,andsitonthefloorwithmyheadbetweenmyknees.
IcallNoahagain,andthistimeheanswersonthesecondring.
“Tess?It’slate,areyouokay?”hesays,hisvoicegroggy.
“Yes.No.IwenttoastupidpartywithmyroommateandnowIamstuckata
frat house with nowhere to sleep and no way to get back to my room,” I sob
through the line. I know my problem isn’t life or death, but I’m beyond
frustratedatmyselfforgettingintothisoverwhelmingsituation.
“Aparty?Withthatredheadgirl?”Hesoundssurprised.
“Yeah,withSteph.Butshe’spassedoutupstairs.”
“Whoa,whyareyouevenhangingoutwithher?She’sso...justnotsomeone
youwouldeverhangaroundwith,”hesays,andthescorninhisvoiceirritates
me. I wanted him to tell me it will be okay, that tomorrow is a new day,
somethingpositiveandencouraging.Somethingnotsojudgmentalandharsh.
“That isn’t the point, Noah . . .” I said with a sigh, but right then the door
handlejinglesandIsitup.“Justaminute!”Icalltothepersonoutsideandwipe
atmyeyeswithsometoiletpaper,butthatonlysmearstheeyelinerevenmore.
ThisisexactlywhyIdon’twearthisstuff.
“Iwillcallyouback;someoneneedsthebathroom,”IsaytoNoahandhang
upbeforehecanprotest.
Whoever’sontheothersideofthedoorbeginspoundingonitandIgroanasI
hurrytoopenit,wipingmyeyesagain.“Isaidjustamin—”
ButIstopasglaringgreeneyespourintomine.
chaptereleven
As I look into those amazing green eyes, I suddenly realize that I hadn’t
previouslynoticedtheircolorbefore.AndthenIrealizethatit’sbecauseHardin
hasn’treallymadeeyecontactwithmeuntiljustnow.Amazing,deep,surprised
greeneyes.HardinlooksawayquicklywhenIpushpasthim.Hegrabsmyarm
andpullsmeback.
“Don’ttouchme!”Iyell,jerkingmyarmaway.
“Have you been crying?” he asks, his tone curious. If this wasn’t Hardin, I
mightactuallythinkhewasconcernedforme.
“Justleavemealone,Hardin.”
Hemovesinfrontofme,histallframeblockingmymovements.Ican’ttake
moreofhisgames,nottonight.
“Hardin,please.Iambeggingyou,ifyouhaveonedecentboneinyourbody
youwillleavemebe.Justsavewhatevermeancommentyouaregoingtosayfor
tomorrow.Please.”Idon’tcareifhehearstheembarrassmentanddesperationin
myvoice.Ijustneedtobeleftalonebyhim.
Aflashofconfusionshowsinhiseyesbeforeheopenshismouth.Hewatches
meforamomentbeforeanywordscomeout.“There’saroomdownthehallyou
cansleepin.It’swhereIputSteph,”heflatlystates.Iwaitasecondforhimto
saysomethingelse,buthedoesn’t.Hejuststaresatme.
“Okay,”Iquietlysayandhemovesoutofmyway.
“It’s the third door on the left,” he instructs and heads down the hall and
disappearsintohisbedroom.
Whatthehellwasthat?Hardinwithoutanyrudecomments?I knowI’m in
for it if I see him tomorrow. He’s probably got a planner for all his snide
comments like I do for my classwork, and I’m sure I’ll be on his agenda
tomorrow.
The third room on theleft is a plain room, much smallerthan Hardin’s and
withtwotwinbeds. It looksmorelikeadorm room thanthelargerspacethat
Hardinhas.Maybehe’stheleaderorsomething?Themorelikelyexplanationis
thateveryoneisafraidofhimandhebulliedhiswayintothelargestroom.Steph
islyingacrossthebedclosesttothewindow,soIkickoffmyshoesandcover
herwiththeblanketbeforelockingthedoorandlyingdownontheother.
MythoughtsareallovertheplaceasIfallasleep,andimagesofcloudedroses
andangrygreeneyesflowthroughmydreams.
chaptertwelve
WhenIwake,ittakesmymindamomenttoremembertheeventsoflastnight
thatledmetothisstrangebedroom.Stephisstillasleep,snoringunattractively
withhermouthwideopen.IdecidetowaituntilIknowhowwearegettingback
tothedormsbeforewakingher.Iquicklyputmyshoeson,grabmypurse,and
stepout.ShouldIknockonHardin’sdoorortrytofindNate?IsNateevenpart
of the frat? I would have never guessed that Hardin would be a part of an
organizedsocialgroup,somaybeNateis,too.
Steppingoversleepingbodiesinthehallway,Imakemywaydownstairs.
“Nate?” I call, hoping to hear a reply. There are at least twenty-five people
sleepinginthelivingroomalone.Thefloorislitteredwithredcupsandtrash,
which makes it hard to navigate through the mess, but also makes me realize
how clean the upstairs hallway actually was, despite the people there. When I
reachthekitchen,Ihavetoforcemyselfnottostartcleaningitup.Thiswilltake
thewholehousealldaytocleanup.IwouldlovetoseeHardincleaningupall
thistrash,andasthethoughtgoesthroughmyheadIgigglealittle.
“What’ssofunny?”
IturnaroundandfindHardinenteringthekitchen,atrashbaginhishand.He
sweepshisarmoverthecountertop,makingthecupsfallintothetrashbag.
“Nothing,”Ilie.“DoesNatelivehere,too?”
Heignoresmeandcontinuestoclean.
“Doeshe?”Iaskagain,moreimpatientthistime.“Thesooneryoutellmeif
Nateliveshere,thesoonerIcanleave.”
“Okay, now you have my attention. But, no, he doesn’t live here. Does he
seemlikeafratboytoyou?”Hesmirks.
“No,butneitherdoyou,”Isnapandhisjawtenses.
Hemovesaroundmeandopensthecabinetnexttomyhip,pullingoutaroll
ofpapertowels.
“Isthereabusthatrunsclosetohere?”Iask,notexpectingananswer.
“Yep,aboutablockaway.”
Ifollowhimaroundthekitchen.“Couldyoutellmewhereitis?”
“Sure.It’saboutablockaway.”Thecornersofhismouthlift,tauntingme.
Irollmyeyesandwalkoutofthekitchen.Hardin’smomentarycivilitylast
nightwasobviouslyaonetimethingandtodayhe’llbecomingatmefullforce.
AfterthenightIhad,Ican’tstandtobearoundhim.
IgowakeupSteph,whowakesupsurprisinglyeasilyandsmilesatme.I’m
gratefulthatshe’sjustasreadytogetoutofthisdamnedfraternityhouse.
“Hardin said there is a bus stop around the block,” I tell her as we walk
downstairstogether.
“Wearen’ttakingthedamnbus.Oneoftheseassholeswilltakeusbacktoour
room.Hewasprobablyjustgivingyouahardtime,”shesays,herhandresting
onmyshoulder.AsweenterthekitchenandfindHardinpullingsomebeercans
outoftheoven,she’sallauthority.“Hardin,youreadytotakeusbacknow?My
headispounding.”
“Yeah,sure,justgivemeaminute,”hesayslikehe’sbeenwaitingforusall
along.
DURINGTHEDRIVEBACKtothedormsStephsingsalongtowhatevermetal
song is playing through the speakers and Hardin rolls all the windows down,
despitemypoliterequeststorollthemup.Silentthewholeway,hemindlessly
drumshislongfingersonthesteeringwheel.NotthatIwaspayingattention.
“I’llcomebylater,Steph,”hetellsherassheclimbsoutofthepassengerseat.
ShenodsandwavesasIopenmydoor.
“Bye,Theresa,”hesayswithasmirk.IrollmyeyesandfollowStephintothe
dorm.
chapterthirteen
The rest of the weekend goes quickly and I manage to avoid seeing Hardin.
WhenIheadoutearlySundaytogoshopping,Ileavebeforehecancometothe
room,andIreturnafterhe’sapparentlyleft.
The new clothes I get fill up my small dresser, but as I put them away
Hardin’sobnoxiousvoiceplaysinmyhead:Youknowwearegoingtoaparty,
notchurch.
Isuspecthe’dsaythesameaboutthesenewoutfits,butI’vedecidedthatIam
nolongergoingtobegoingtopartieswithSteph,oranywherethatHardinmay
be.Heisn’tgoodcompanyandbickeringwithhimisexhausting.
Finallyit’sMondaymorning,myfirstdayofcollegeclasses,andIcouldn’tbe
moreprepared.IwakeupextraearlytomakesureIcantakeashower—without
boysaround—andnotberushed.Mywhitebutton-upshirtandtanpleatedskirt
areperfectlyironedandreadytobeputon.Igetdressed,pinmyhair,andput
my bag over my shoulder. I’m about to leave—about fifteen minutes early, to
ensure that I won’tbe late—when Steph’s alarm goes off. She hits the snooze
button,butIwonderifIshouldIwakeher.Herclassesmaystartlaterthanmine,
ormaybesheisn’tplanningongoing.Theideaofmissingthefirstdayofclasses
stressesmeout,butsheisasophomore,somaybeshehasitundercontrol.
With one last glance in the mirror, I head to my first class. Studying the
campusmapprovestohavebeenagoodidea,andIfindmyfirstbuildingwithin
twentyminutes.WhenIwalkintomyfreshmanhistoryclasstheroomisempty,
saveoneperson.
Sincethispersonobviouslycaresaboutbeingontime,too,Isitnexttohim.
Hecouldbemyfirstnewfriend.“Whereiseveryone?”Iask,andhesmiles.His
smilealoneputsmeatease.
“Probablyrunningacrosscampustobarelymakeithereontime,”hejokes,
andIinstantlylikehim.That’sexactlywhatIwasthinking.
“I’mTessaYoung,”Isayandgivehimafriendlysmile.
“LandonGibson,”hesayswithanequallyadorablesmileasthefirstone.We
spend the rest of the time before class talking. I find out that he’s an English
major,likeme,andhehasagirlfriendnamedDakota.Landondoesn’tmockme
or miss a beat in our easy conversation when I tell him that Noah is a grade
belowme.IdecidenowthatheissomeonewhomIwouldliketoseemoreof.
Astheclassbeginstofill,LandonandImakeapointtointroduceourselvesto
theprofessor.
Afterward,asthedaycontinues,Ibegintoregrettakingfiveclassesinsteadof
four.IrushtomyBritishLiteratureelective—thankingGodit’sthelastclassof
theday—andbarelymakeitontime.IamrelievedwhenIseeLandonsittingin
thefrontrow,theseatnexttohimempty.
“Heyagain,”hesayswithasmileasIsitdown.
Theprofessorbeginstheclass,handingoutthesyllabusforthesemesterand
givingabriefintroductionabouthimself,whatledtohimtobecomeaprofessor,
andhisexcitementforthetopic.Ilovethatcollegeisdifferentfromhighschool
and the professors don’t make you stand in front of the class and introduce
yourselfordoanyotherembarrassingandunnecessarythings.
In the middle of the professor explaining our reading lists, the door creaks
openandIhearmyselfgroanasHardinstumblesintotheclassroom.
“Great,”Isayundermybreathsarcastically.
“You know Hardin?” Landon asks. Hardin must have quite the reputation
aroundthecampusifsomeoneassweetasLandonknowsofhim.
“Sortof.My roommate isfriendswithhim. He’snot myfavoriteperson,”I
whisper.
AsIdoso,Hardin’sgreeneyeslockonmine,andIworrythathe’sheardme.
Whatwouldhedoifhehad?But,honestly,Idon’tcareifhedid—it’snotlikehe
isn’tawarethatwedon’tcareforeachother.
IfindmyselfcuriousaboutwhatLandonknowsabouthim,though,soIcan’t
helpbutask,“Doyouknowhim?”
“Yeah...he’s...”Hestopstalkingandturnsslightlytolookbehindus.I
lookupandseeHardinslidingintothedesknexttome.Landonstaysquietfor
therestoftheclass,keepinghiseyesfocusedontheprofessortheentiretime.
“THAT’SALLFORTODAY.IwillseeyouallagainonWednesday,”Professor
Hillsaysanddismissesus.
“Ithinkthiswillbemyfavoriteclass,”ItellLandonaswewalkoutside,and
heagrees.ButhisfacefallswhenwerealizeHardiniswalkingnexttous.
“Whatdoyouwant,Hardin?”Iask,givinghimatasteofhisownmedicine.It
doesn’t work, or I don’t have the right tone for it, because all he seems is
amused.
“Nothing. Nothing. I’m just so glad we have a class together,” he says
mockinglyandrunshishandsthroughhishair,shakingitandpushingitupon
his forehead. I notice an oddly shaped infinity symbol tattooed just above his
wrist,andhelowershishandasItrytostudythesurroundingink.
“I’llseeyoulater,Tessa,”Landonsays,excusinghimself.
“You would find the lamest kid in class to befriend,” Hardin says as he
watcheshimgo.
“Don’tsaythatabouthim;he’sasweetguy.Unlikeyou.”I’mshockedatmy
harshwords.Hereallybringsouttheworstinme.
Hardin turns back to me. “You’re becoming more feisty with each chat we
have,Theresa.”
“If you call me Theresa one more time . . .” I warn and he laughs. I try to
picture what he would look like without his tattoos and piercings. Even with
them,he’sveryattractive,buthissourpersonalityruinshim.
We begin walking along back in the direction of my dorm and get about
twentystepswhenallofasuddenheshoutsout,“Stopstaringatme!”turnsa
corner,anddisappearsdownapathwaybeforeIcaneventhinkofaresponse.
chapterfourteen
After several exhausting—but exciting—days, it’s finally Friday, and my first
weekofcollegeisalmostover.Feelingpleasedwiththewaytheweekhasgone
overall,Iplanonjustwatchingsomemovies,sinceStephwillmostlikelybeata
partyandit’llbequiet.Havingallmyclasses’syllabireallymakesthingseasier
forme,andIcandoalotoftheworkaheadoftime.Igrabmybagandleave
early,stoppingbythecafétograbacoffeetogetanextrashotofenergyforthe
beginningoftheweekend.
“Tessa,right?”agirl’svoicesaysbehindmeasIwaitinline.Iturnaroundto
findthepink-hairedgirlfromtheparty.Molly,IthinkStephcalledher.
“Yeah.That’sme,”Ianswerandturntofacethecounter,attemptingtoavoid
furtherconversation.
“Areyoucomingtothepartytonight?”sheasks.Shehastobemockingme,
so, sighing, I turn around again and am about to shake my head no when she
says,“Youshould,it’sgoingtobeawesome.”Sherunshertinyfingersovera
largefairytattooedonherforearm.
Ipauseforamoment,butdoshakemyheadandsay,“Sorry,Ihaveplans.”
“Toobad.IknowZedwantedtoseeyou.”AtthatIcan’thelpbutlaugh,but
sheonlysmiles.“What?Hewastalkingaboutyoujustyesterday.”
“Idoubtthat...butevenifhewas,Ihaveaboyfriend,”Itellher,causingher
smiletogrow.
“Toobad,wecouldhavedouble-dated,”shesaysambiguously,andIinwardly
thank God when the barista calls my order. In my haste, I grab the cup too
roughlyandalittlebitofcoffeelapsovertheedgeandburnsmyhand.Icurse,
hopingthatthisisn’tsettingthetoneformyweekend.Mollywavesgoodbyeto
meandIsmilepolitelybeforeIexittheshop.Hercommentsreplayinmymind;
Double-datewithwho?HerandHardin?Aretheyactuallydating?Asniceand
attractiveasZedmaybe,NoahismyboyfriendandIwouldneverdoanything
to hurt him. I know that we haven’t spoken much this week, but that’s only
becausewehavebothbeensobusy.Imakeamentalnotetocallhimtonightand
catchup,seehowhe’sbeendoingwithoutme.
After my coffee burn and awkward encounter with Miss Pink Hair,my day
improves. Landon and I had made plans to start meeting at the coffee shop
beforetheclasseswehavetogether,sohe’sleaningagainstthebrickwall,andas
Iwalkuptohimhegreetsmewithabigsmile.
“I’mleavingaboutthirtyminutesintoclasstoday.IforgottotellyouthatI’m
flyingbacktomy hometown fortheweekend,”he says. I’mhappyfor him to
visitDakota,butIhatetheideaofsittingthroughBritishLiteraturewithouthim,
andwithHardin,ifheshows.HewasabsentWednesday,notthatIwaspaying
attention.
Iturntohim.“Sosoon?Thesemesterjuststarted.”
“It’sherbirthdayandIpromisedhermonthsbackthatIwouldbethere.”He
shrugs.
INCLASS,Hardintakeshisseat next tomebutdoesn’tsayaword,not even
when, as promised, Landon leaves thirty minutes into class, which suddenly
makesmeevenmoreawareofHardin’spresencebesideme.
“Monday we begin our weeklong discussion of Jane Austen’s Pride and
Prejudice,”ProfessorHillannouncesasclassends.Idon’thidemyexcitement,
andI’mfairlysurethatIjustletoutasqueal.Ihavereadthatnovelatleastten
timesandit’soneofmyfavorites.
Althoughhehadn’treallysaidanythingtomeallduringclass,Hardinwalks
upclosebesideme.IswearIcouldalmostpredictwhathe’sgoingtosaywith
thatdeadpanlookinhiseyes.
“Letmeguess,youarejustmadlyinlovewithMr.Darcy.”
“Everywomanwhohasreadthenovelis,”Isaywithoutmeetinghiseyes.We
reachtheintersectionandIlookbothwaysbeforecrossingthestreet.
“Of course you do,” he laughs, continuing to follow me along the busy
sidewalk.
“I’msureyouaren’tabletocomprehendMr.Darcy’sappeal.”Mymindgoes
tothemassivecollectionofnovelsinHardin’sroom.Theycouldn’tpossiblybe
his.Couldthey?
“A man who is rude and intolerable being made into a romantic hero? It’s
ridiculous.IfElizabethhadanysense,shewouldhavetoldhimtofuckofffrom
thebeginning.”
I laugh at his choice of words but cover my mouth, stopping myself. I was
actuallyenjoyingourlittlebanter,andhispresence,butitwouldonlybeamatter
of time—three minutes, if I’m so lucky—until he says something hurtful.
Lookingup,Imeethisdimpledgrinandcan’thelpbutadmirehisgoodlooks.
Piercingsandall.
“SoyoudoagreethatElizabethisanidiot?”Heraiseshiseyebrow.
“No,sheisoneofthestrongest,mostcomplexcharacterseverwritten,”Isay
inherdefense,usingthewordsfromoneofmyfavoritemovies.
He laughs again and I join him. But after a few seconds, catching himself
having a decent laugh with me, he stops suddenly and his laughter fades.
Somethingflashesinhiseyes.“I’llseeyouaround,Theresa,”hesaysandturns
onhisheelanddisappearsbackwherewe’dcomefrom.
Whatiswithhim?BeforeIcanbegintoanalyzehisactions,myphonerings.
Noah’snameflashesacrossmyscreenandIfeeloddlyguiltyasIanswer.
“Hey,Tess,Iwasgoingtotextyouback,butIfiguredImightaswellcall.”
Noah’svoiceisclipped,abitdistant.
“Whatareyoudoing?Yousoundbusy.”
“No,justonmywaytomeetsomefriendsatthegrill,”heexplains.
“Okay, well, I won’t keep you. I’m so glad it’s Friday. I am ready for the
weekend!”
“Areyougoingtoanotherparty?Yourmomisstilldisappointed.”
Wait—why did he mention it to my mother? I love that he has a close
relationshipwithher,butsometimesdatinghimislikehavinganannoyinglittle
brotherwhotattlesonme.Ihatetocomparehimthatway,butit’strue.
Ratherthangettingintoitwithhim,Ijusttellhim,“No,I’mstayinginthis
weekend.Imissyou.”
“Imissyoutoo,Tess.Somuch.Callmelater,okay?”
Iagreeandweexchange“Iloveyou’s”beforehangingup.
WHENIGETBACKTOMYROOM,Stephisgettingreadyforanotherparty,
whichI assumeis theone Mollymentioned atthe café.I loginto Netflixand
browsethemovies.
“Ireallywishyouwouldcome.Iswearwewon’tstayovernightthistime.Just
come for a little bit. Watching movies alone in this small room will be hell!”
Stephwhines,andIlaugh.Shecontinuestobegmewhilesheteasesherhairand
changesintothreedifferentoutfitsbeforedecidingonagreendressthatleaves
verylittletotheimagination.Thecrispcolorlooksreallygoodwithherbright
redhair,Ihavetoadmit.Ienvyherconfidence.I’mconfidenttoacertainextent,
butI’mawarethatmyhipsandbreastsarelargerthanmostwomenmyage. I
tend to wear clothes that hide my large bust, while she tries to draw as much
attentionaspossibletohers.
“Iknow...”Isay,humoringher.ButthenmylaptopscreenturnsblackandI
pressthepowerbuttonandwait...andwait.Theblackscreenremains.
“See! It’s a sign that you should come. My laptop’s at Nate’s apartment, so
youcan’tusemine.”Shesmirksandteasesherhairagain.
Lookingather,IrealizeIreallydon’twanttositinthedormalonewithout
anythingtodoorwatch.
“Fine,” I say, and she jumps up and down, clapping her hands. “But we’re
leavingbeforemidnight.”
chapterfifteen
IchangeoutofmypajamasandputonanewpairofjeansthatIhaven’tworn
yet.Theyarealittletighterthanmyusualpants,butI’mindesperateneedofa
triptothelaundryroom,soIdon’thavemuchofachoice.Myshirtisasimple
blackbutton-up,sleevelessshirtwithlacetrimontheshoulders.
“Wow,Iactuallylikeyouroutfitalot,”Stephtellsme.Ismileandshetriesto
offermeeyelineragain.
“Not this time,” I tell her, remembering how it smeared from my tears last
time.WhydidIagreetogobacktothatfrathouseagain?
“Okay.Mollyispickingusupinsteadof Nate; she just texted that she’ll be
hereanyminute.”
“Idon’tthinkshelikesme,”IsayasIcheckmyselfoutinthemirror.
Stephcocksherheadtooneside.“What?Shedoes.She’sjustbitchyandtoo
honestsometimes.AndIthinksheisintimidatedbyyou.”
“Intimidated?Byme?Whyonearthwouldshebeintimidatedbyme?”Isay
andlaugh.Stephclearlyhasthisbackward.
“Ithinkjustbecauseyou’resodifferentfromus,”shesaysandsmiles.Iknow
I’mdifferentfromthem,buttometheyarethe“different”ones.“Don’tworry
abouther,though;she’llbeoccupiedtonight.”
“ByHardin?”IaskbeforeIcanstopmyself.Icontinuetolookatthemirror,
butIcan’thelpbutnoticethewaysheislookingatmewithoneeyebrowraised.
“No,byZedprobably.Shechangesguyseveryweek.”
That’saharshthingtosayaboutafriend,butshejustsmilesandadjustsher
top.
“Sheisn’tdatingHardin?”Theimageofthemmakingoutonthebedcomesto
mind.
“Noway.Hardindoesn’tdate.Hefuckswithalotofgirls,buthedoesn’tdate
anyone.Ever.”
“Oh,”isallImanagetosay.
THE PARTY TONIGHT is the same as last week. The lawn and house are
crowdedwithdrunkpeopleeverywhere.Whydidn’tIjuststayinandstareatmy
ceiling?
Molly disappears as soon as we arrive, and I end up getting a spot on the
couchandamsittingthereforatleastanhourwhenHardinwalksby.
“Youlook...different,”hesaysafterashortpause.Hiseyesrakedownmy
bodyandbackuptorestonmyface.Hedoesn’teventrytobesubtleaboutthe
way he’s assessing me. I stay silent until his eyes meet mine. “Your clothes
actuallyfityoutonight.”
Irollmyeyesandadjustmyshirt,suddenlywishingIwaswearingmynormal
looseclothing.
“It’sasurprisetoseeyouhere.”
“I’m a bit surprised that I ended up here again,” I say and walk away from
him. He doesn’t follow, but for some reason I find myself wishing he would
have.
Afewhourslater,Stephisdrunkagain.Well,asmuchaseveryoneelseis.
“Let’splayTruthorDare,”Zedslursandtheirsmallgroupoffriendsgather
aroundthecouch.MollypassesabottleofclearalcoholtoNateandhetakesa
swig.Hardin’shandissolargethatitcovershisentireredcupashetakesasip.
Anotherpunk-lookinggirljoinsthegame,makingitHardin,Zed,Nate,Nate’s
roommateTristan,Molly,Steph,andthenewgirl.
I’mjustthinkingthatadrunkengameofTruthorDarecan’tpossiblyendwell
whenMollysayswithawickedsmile,“Youshouldplay,too,Tessa.”
“No,I’drathernot,”Itellherandfocusmyattentiononabrownstainonthe
carpet.
“To actually play, she would have to stop being a prude for five minutes,”
HardintellsthemandtheyalllaughexceptSteph.Hiswordsangerme.Iamnot
a prude. Yeah, I will admit I’m not by any means wild, but I’m not some
cloisterednun.IglareatHardinandsitdowncross-leggedintheirlittlecircle,
between Nate and another girl. Hardin laughs and whispers something to Zed
beforetheystart.
ThefirstfewtruthsanddaresincludeZedbeingdaredtochuganentirecanof
beer,Mollybeingdaredtoflashherbarechesttothegroup,whichshedoes,and
Stephrevealingthetruththathernipplesarepierced.
“Truthordare,Theresa?”HardinasksandIgulp.
“Truth?”Isqueak.
Helaughsandmutters,“Ofcourse,”butIignorehimasNaterubshishands
together.
“Okay.Areyou...avirgin?”Zedasks,andIchoke.Nooneseemsfazedby
theintrusivequestionbesidesme.Ifeeltheheatinmycheeksandthehumorin
everyone’sfaces.
“Well?”Hardinpresses.DespitehowmuchIwanttorunawayandhide,Ijust
nod.OfcourseI’mavirgin;thefurthestNoahandIhavegoneismakingoutand
someslightgroping,overourclothes,ofcourse.
Still,nooneseemsoutrightsurprisedbymyanswer,justintrigued.
“So you have been dating Noah for two years and you haven’t had sex?”
Stephasks,andIshiftuncomfortably.
I just shake my head. “Hardin’s turn,” I say quickly, hoping to take the
attentionoffmyself.
chaptersixteen
Dare,”HardinanswersbeforeIevenaskhim.Hisgreeneyesborethroughme
withanintensitythatsaysI’mtheoneonthespot,thatI’mtheonedaredtodo
something.
AndI falter, nothaving really thought this out, or expecting to bemet with
suchareaction.WhatshouldIdarehimtodo?Iknowhewilldowhateveritis,
justbecausehewon’twanttobackdownfromme.
“I...hmm.Idareyouto...”
“Towhat?”hesaysimpatiently.Ialmostdarehimtosaysomethingniceabout
eachpersoninthegroupbutIdecideagainstit,howeveramusingitwouldhave
been.
“Takeyourshirtoffandkeepitofftheentiregame!”Mollyyellsout,andI’m
glad. Not because Hardin will be taking his shirt off, of course, but because I
couldn’t think of anything and it eases the pressure of my having to give him
orders.
“How juvenile,” he complains, but he lifts his shirt over his head. Without
meaningto,myeyesgodirectlytohislongtorsoandthewaytheblacktattoo
inkstretchesacrosshissurprisinglytanskin.Underthebirdsonhischest,hehas
a large tree inked onto the skin of his stomach. The branches are bare and
haunting. His upper arms have many more tattoos than I expected; small,
seeminglyrandomimagesandiconsarescatteredalonghisshouldersandhips.
Stephnudgesme,andItearmyeyesawayfromhim,prayingthatnoonesaw
mestaring.
Thegamecontinues.MollykissesTristanandZedboth.Stephtellsusabout
herfirsttimehavingsex.Natekissestheothergirl.
HowdidIfindmyselfinthemiddleofthisgroupofhormonalcollegerock-
and-rollmisfits?
“Tessa,truthordare?”Tristanasks.
“Whyevenask?Weknowshewillsaytruth—”Hardinstarts.
“Dare,”Isay,surprisingthemandmyself.
“Hmm . . . Tessa, I dare you to . . . take a shot of vodka,” Tristan says,
smiling.
“Idon’tdrink.”
“That’sthepointofthedare.”
“Look,if you don’twanttodo it .. .”Nate starts tosay and Ilook overat
HardinandMollysharingalaughatmyexpense.
“Fine, one shot,” I say. I think Hardin will probably have yet another
contemptuousexpressionatthis,butwhenhiseyesmeetmine,Ifindhe’sgiving
meastrangelookinstead.
Someonehandsmetheclearbottleofvodka.Imistakenlyputmynoseagainst
the top, smelling the foul liquid, which burns my nostrils. I scrunch my nose,
tryingtoignorethechucklesbehindme.Itrynottothinkofallthemouthsthat
havebeenonthebottlebeforeme,andIjusttiltitback andtakeadrink.The
vodka feels hot and burns all the way down to my stomach, but I manage to
swallow it. It tastes horrible. The group claps and laughs a little—everyone
except Hardin. If I didn’t know him any better, I would think he was mad or
disappointed.Heissostrange.
Afterashorttime,Icanfeeltheheatinmycheeksandthen,later,thesmall
amount of alcohol in my veins that grows with each round that I am dared to
takeanothershot.Ioblige,andIhavetoadmitIfeelprettyrelaxedforonce.I
feelgood.Withthisfeeling,everythingseemsalittleeasier.Thepeoplearound
meallseemalittlemorefunthanbefore.
“Samedare,”Zedsayswithalaughandtakesaswigfromthebottlebefore
handingittomeforthefifthtime.Idon’tevenrememberthedaresandtruths
thathavebeenhappeningaroundmeforthelastfewrounds.ThistimeItaketwo
bigdrinksofthevodkabeforeit’srippedfrommygrasp.
“Ithinkyou’vehadenough,”HardinsaysandhandsthebottletoNate,who
takesadrink.
Whothehellis Hardin Scotttotellme when Ihavehadenough? Everyone
elseisstilldrinking,soIcan,too.IgrabthebottlebackfromNateandtakea
drinkagain,makingsuretogiveHardinasmirkasthebottletouchesmylips.
“Ican’tbelieveyouhaveneverbeendrunkbefore,Tessa.It’sfun,right?”Zed
asksandIgiggle.Thoughtsofmymother’slecturesonirresponsibilityfloodmy
mind,butIpushthemback.It’sonlyonenight.
“Hardin,truthordare?”Mollyasks.Heanswers“dare,”ofcourse.
“IdareyoutokissTessa,”shesaysandgiveshimafakesmile.
Hardin’s eyes go wide, and though the alcohol is making everything more
exciting,Ireallyjustwanttorunawayfromhim.
“No, I have a boyfriend,” I say, making everyone laugh at me for the
hundredthtimetonight.WhyamIevenhangingaroundthesepeoplewhokeep
laughingatme?
“So?It’sjustadare.Justdoit,”Mollysays,pressuringme.
“No, I’m not kissing anyone,” I snap and stand up. Without looking at me,
Hardinjust takesa drink from his cup.I hopehe’s offended.Actually, I don’t
careifheis.I’mthroughinteractingwithhimlikethis.Hehatesmeandisjust
toorude.
AsIgettomyfeet,thefulleffectofthealcoholhitsme.Istumblebutmanage
topullmyselftogetherandwalkawayfromthegroup.SomehowIfindthefront
doorthroughthecrowd.AssoonasI’moutside,thefallbreezehitsme.Iclose
my eyes and breathe in the fresh air before going to sit on the familiar stone
wall.BeforeIrealizewhatIamdoing,myphoneisinmyhands,dialingNoah.
“Hello?” he says. The familiarity of his voice and the vodka in my system
makememisshimmore.
“Hey...babe,”Isayandbringmykneestomychest.
A beat of silence passes. “Tessa, are you drunk?” His voice is full of
judgment.Ishouldn’thavecalledhim.
“No...ofcoursenot,”Ilieandhangupthephone.Ipressmyfingerdownon
thepowerbutton.Idon’twanthimto call back. He’sruiningthegoodfeeling
fromthevodka,worsethanevenHardindid.
Istumblebackinside,ignoringwhistlesandcrudecommentsfromdrunkfrat
guys. I grab abottle of brown liquor off the counter inthe kitchen and take a
drink,toobigofadrink.Ittastesworsethanthevodkaandmythroatfeelslike
it’s on fire. My hands fumble for acup of anything to get the tasteout of my
mouth.Iendupopeningthecabinetandusingarealglasstopoursomewater
from the sink. It helps the burn a little, but not much. Through a break in the
crowd, I see that the group of my “friends” are still sitting in a circle playing
theirstupidgame.
Aretheymyfriends?Idon’tthinktheyare.Theyonlywantmearoundsothey
can laugh at my inexperience. How dare Molly tell Hardin to kiss me—she
knowsthat I have a boyfriend. Unlike her, I don’tgo around making out with
everyone.I’vekissedonlytwoboysinmylife,NoahandJohnny,afreckle-faced
kidinthirdgradewhokickedmeintheshinafterward.WouldHardinhavegone
alongwiththedare?Idoubtit.Hislipsaresopinkandfull,andmyheadplays
animageofHardinleaningovertokissmeandmypulsebeginstorace.
Whatthe hell? Why am Ithinking about him like that? I am never drinking
again.
Minutes later, the room begins to spin and I feel dizzy. My feet lead me
upstairsto the bathroomand I sitin front of the toilet, expectingto throw up.
Nothing happens. I groan and pull myself up. I am ready to go back to the
dorms,butIknowStephwon’tbereadyforhours.Ishouldn’thavecomehere.
Again.
BeforeIcanstopmyself,myhandisturningtheknobontheonlyroomI’m
somewhat familiar with in this oversize house. Hardin’s bedroom door opens
without a problem. He claims to always lock his door, but he’s proving
otherwise.Itlooksthesameasbefore,onlythistimetheroomismovingaround
beneathmyunsteadyfeet. WutheringHeightsismissingfrom where itwason
theshelf,butIfinditonthebedsidetable,nexttoPrideandPrejudice.Hardin’s
commentsaboutthenovelreplayinmymind.Hehasobviouslyreaditbefore—
and understood it—which is rare for our age group, and for a boy especially.
Maybe he had to read it for class before, that’s why. But why is this copy of
WutheringHeightsout?Igrabitandsitonthebed, openingthebookhalfway
through.Myeyesscanthepagesandtheroomstopsspinning.
I’msolostintheworldofCatherineandHeathcliffthatwhenthedooropens,
Idon’thearit.
“What part of ‘No One Comes Into My Room’ did you not understand?”
Hardinbooms.Hisangryexpressionscaresme,butsomehowhumorsmeatthe
sametime.
“S-sorry.I...”
“Getout,”hespits,andIglareathim.Thevodkaisstillfreshinmysystem,
toofreshtoletHardinyellatme.
“Youdon’thavetobesuchajerk!”MyvoicecomesoutmuchlouderthanI
hadintended.
“You’reinmyroom,again,afterItoldyounottobe.Soget out!”heyells,
steppingclosertome.
And with Hardin looming in front of me, mad, seething with scorn and
makingitseemlikeI’mtheworstpersononearthtohim,somethinginsideme
snaps.AnycomposureIhadsnapsinhalf,andIaskthequestionthat’sbeenat
thefrontofmybrainwithoutmywantingtoacknowledgeit.
“Whydon’tyoulikeme?”Idemand,staringupathim.
It’safairquestion,but,tobehonest,Idon’treallythinkmyalreadywounded
egocantaketheanswer.
chapterseventeen
Hardinglaresatme.It’saggressive.Butunsure.“Whyareyouaskingmethis?”
“Idon’tknow.. .becauseIhavebeennothingbutnicetoyou, andyou’ve
beennothingbutrudetome.”AndthenIadd,“AndhereIactuallythoughtat
onepointwecouldbefriends,”whichsoundssostupidthatIpinchthebridgeof
mynosewithmyfingerswhileIwaitforhisanswer.
“Us?Friends?”Helaughsandthrowsuphishands.“Isn’titobviouswhywe
can’tbefriends?”
“Nottome.”
“Well,forstartersyou’retoouptight—youprobablygrewupinsomeperfect
littlemodelhomethatlookslikeeveryotherhouseontheblock.Yourparents
probablyboughtyoueverythingyoueveraskedfor,andyouneverhadtowant
foranything.Withyourstupidpleatedskirts,Imean,honestly,whodresseslike
thatateighteen?”
Mymouthfallsopen.“Youknownothingaboutme,youcondescendingjerk!
Mylifeis nothinglikethat! My alcoholicdad left uswhen I wasten, and my
motherworkedherassofftomakesureIcouldgotocollege.Igotmyownjob
assoonIturnedsixteentohelpwithbills,andIhappentolikemyclothes—sorry
ifIdon’tdresslikeaslutlikeallthegirlsaroundyou!Forsomeonewhotriestoo
hardtostandoutandbedifferent,yousurearejudgmentalaboutpeoplewhoare
differentfromyou!”Iscreamandfeelthetearswellupinmyeyes.
Iturnaroundsohewon’tgettoremembermelikethis,andInoticethathe’s
ballinghisfists.Likehegetstobeangryaboutthis.
“Youknowwhat,Idon’twanttobefriendswithyouanyway,Hardin,”Itell
himandreachforthedoorhandle.Thevodka,whichhadmademebrave,isalso
makingmefeelthesadnessofthissituation,ofouryelling.
“Whereareyougoing?”heasks.Sounpredictable.Somoody.
“TothebusstopsoIcangobacktomyroomandnever,evercomebackhere
again.Iamdonetryingtobefriendswithanyofyou.”
“It’stoolatetotakethebusalone.”
Ispinaroundtofacehim.“Youarenotseriouslytryingtoactlikeyoucareif
somethinghappenedtome.”Ilaugh.Ican’tkeepupwithhischangesintone.
“I’mnotsayingIdo...I’mjustwarningyou.It’sabadidea.”
“Well,Hardin,Idon’thaveanyotheroptions.Everyoneisdrunk—including
myself.”
Andthenthetearscome.IambeyondhumiliatedthatHardin,ofallpeople,is
seeingmecry.Again.
“Doyoualwayscryatparties?”heasksandduckshisheadalittle,butwitha
smallsmile.
“Apparently,wheneveryou’reatthem.AndsincethesearetheonlyonesI’ve
everbeento...”Ireachthedooragainandopenit.
“Theresa,” he says so soft that I almost don’t hear him. His face is
unreadable.TheroomstartstospinagainandIgrabontothedressernexttohis
door.“Youokay?”heasks.InodeventhoughIfeelnauseous.“Whydon’tyou
justsitdownforafewminutes,thenyoucangotothebusstation.”
“Ithoughtnoonewasallowedinyourroom,”Istate,thensitonthefloor.
Ihiccupandheimmediatelywarns,“Ifyouthrowupinmyroom...”
“IthinkIjustneedsomewater,”Isayandmovetostandup.
“Here,”hesays,puttingahandonmyshouldertokeepmedownandhanding
mehisredcup.
Irollmyeyesandpushitaway.“Isaidwater,notbeer.”
“Itiswater.Idon’tdrink,”hesays.
Anoisesomewherebetweenagaspandalaughescapesme.Thereisnoway
Hardin doesn’t drink. “Hilarious. You’re not going to sit here and babysit, are
you?”Ireallyjustwanttobealoneinmypatheticstate,andmybuzziswearing
off,soI’mstartingtofeelguiltyforyellingatHardin.“Youbringouttheworst
inme,”Imurmuraloud,notquitemeaningto.
“That’sharsh,”hesays,histoneserious.“Andyes,Iamgoingtosithereand
babysityou.Youaredrunkforthefirsttimeinyourlife,andyouhaveahabitof
touchingmythingswhenI’mnotaround.”Hegoesandtakesaseatonhisbed,
kickinghislegsup.Igetupandgrabthecupofwater.Takingabigdrink,Ican
taste a hint of mint on the rim and can’t help but think about how Hardin’s
mouthwouldtaste.ButthenthewaterhitsthealcoholinmystomachandIdon’t
feelsohot.
God,I am neverdrinking again, I remind myself as I sit back down on the
floor.
After a few minutes of silence Hardin finally speaks up. “Can I ask you a
question?”
ThelookonhisfacetellsmeIshouldsaynobuttheroom’sstillnotfeeling
entirelysolid,andIthinkmaybetalkingwillhelpmefocus,soIsay,“Sure.”
“Whatdoyouwanttodoaftercollege?”
I look up at him with new eyes. That is literally the last thing I thought he
wouldask.IassumedhewouldaskwhyI’mavirgin,orwhyIdon’tdrink.
“Well, I want to be an author or a publisher, whichever comes first.” I
probablyshouldn’tbehonestwithhim;hewilljustmakefunofme.Butwhen
he doesn’t say anything back, I start feeling brave and ask him the same
question,earninganeyerollfromhimbutnoanswer.
FinallyIask,“Arethoseyourbooks?”eventhoughit’sprobablyfutile.
“Theyare,”hemumbles.
“Whichisyourfavorite?”
“Idon’tplayfavorites.”
Isighandpickatasmallfrayonmyjeans.
“DoesMr.Rogersknowyou’reatapartyagain?”
“Mr.Rogers?”Ilookbackupathim.Idon’tgetit.
“Yourboyfriend.HeisthebiggesttoolIhaveeverseen.”
“Don’t talk about him like that, he is . . . he is . . . nice,” I stutter. When
Hardinlaughs,Istandup.Hedoesn’tknowNoahatall.“Youcouldonlydream
ofbeingasniceasheis,”Isaysharply.
“Nice?That’sthefirstwordthatcomestoyourmindwhentalkingaboutyour
boyfriend?Niceisyour‘nice’wayofcallinghimboring.”
“Youdon’tknowhim.”
“Well, I know that he’s boring. I could tell by his cardigan and loafers.”
Hardin’sheadrollsbackinlaughterandIcan’tignorehisdimples.
“Hedoesn’twearloafers,”Isay,buthavetocovermymouthsoIdon’tlaugh
withhimatmyboyfriend’sexpense.Igrabthewaterandtakeanotherdrink.
“Well,hehasbeendatingyoufortwoyearsandhasn’tfuckedyouyet,soI
wouldsayheisasquare.”
Ispitthewaterbackintothecup.“Whatthehelldidyoujustsay?”Justwhen
Ithinkwecangetalonghesayssomethinglikethat.
“Youheardme,Theresa.”Hissmileiscruel.
“You’reanasshole,Hardin,”Igrowlandthrowthehalf-emptycupathim.His
reactionisexactlywhatIhopedfor:completeshock.Whilehewipeswateroff
hisface,Istaggertomyfeetusingthebookshelfforleverage.Acoupleofbooks
fall to the ground, but I ignore all that and storm out of the room. I stumble
downstairs and push my way through the crowd into the kitchen. The anger I
feelhasovercomemynausea,andallIwantistogetHardin’sevilsmirkoutof
myhead.IspotZed’sblackhairthroughthecrowdintheotherroomandgoto
wherehe’ssittingwithacutepreppyboy.
“Hey,Tessa,thisismyfriendLogan,”Zedsays,introducingus.
Logansmilesatmeandoffersthebottlehe’sholding.“Wantsome?”heasks
andpassesittome.Thefamiliarburnfeelsgood;itignitesmybodyagainandI
momentarilyforgetaboutHardin.
“Have you seen Steph?” I ask, but Zed shakes his head. “I think she and
Tristanmayhaveleft.”
Sheleft?Whatthehell?Ishouldcaremorebutthevodkaskewsmyjudgment
andIfindmyselfthinkingsheandTristanwouldmakeacutecouple.Acouple
ofdrinkslater,Ifeelamazing.
Thismustbewhypeopledrinkallthetime.Ivaguelyrememberhavingsworn
offalcoholatsomepointtonight,butit’snotsobad.
FIFTEENMINUTESLATER,ZedandLoganhavemelaughingsohardthatmy
stomachhurts.TheyaremuchbettercompanythanHardin.“YouknowHardinis
arealass,”Itellthem,whichelicitswidegrinsfromthemboth.
“Yeah,hecanbesometimes,”Zedsaysandsnakeshisarmaroundme.Iwant
tomoveitbutIdon’twanttomakeitawkwardbecauseIknowhedoesn’tmean
anything by it. Soon the crowd starts to die down and I start to feel tired. It
dawnsonmethatIhavenowaytogetbacktothedorms.
“Dothebusesrunallnight?”Islur.Zedshrugs,andjustthenHardin’smopof
curlsappearsinfrontofme.
“You and Zed then?” His voice is thick with an emotion that I can’t quite
register.
Igetupandpushpasthim,buthegrabsmyarm.Hehasnoboundaries.“Let
goofme,Hardin.”Lookingforanothercuptotossinhisface,Isay,“I’mjust
tryingtofindoutaboutthebus.”
“Chill out . . . it’s three a.m. There is no bus. Your newfound alcoholic
lifestylehasyoustuckhereagain.”Thegleeinhiseyeswhenhesaysthisisso
mocking that it makes me want to smack him. “Unless you want to go home
withZed...”
Whenheletsgoofmyarm,IdogobacktothecouchwithZedandLogan,
because I know it will irritate him. After standing there and nodding for a
moment, he turns in a huff.Hoping that that same room from last weekend is
empty,ItellZedtotakemeupstairssowecanfindit.
chaptereighteen
We find the room. Unfortunately one of the beds is occupied by a snoring,
passed-outguy.
“Atleastthatbedisempty!”Zedsaysandlaughs.“I’mgoingtowalkbackto
myplace,ifyouwanttocome.Ihaveacouchyoucouldsleepon,”hesays.
Cuttingthroughthehazetotrytothinkclearlyforasecond,Iconcludethat
Zed,likeHardin,hooksupwithalotofdifferentgirls.IfIagreetothisitcould
meanIamofferingtokisshim...well.Ihaveafeelingwiththosegoodlooks
it’seasyforZedtogetgirlstodomorethankiss.
“IthinkIwilljuststayhereincaseStephcomesback,”Isay.
Hisfacefallsalittlebuthegivesmeanunderstandingsmile.Hetellsmetobe
carefuland givesme ahug goodbye.The doorcloses as he leaves and I can’t
help but lock it. Who knows who will come in? I look over at the comatose
snorerandfeelsecurethatheisn’twakingupanytimesoon.ThetirednessIfelt
downstairshassomehowfaded,mymindgoingbacktoHardinandhiscomment
abouthowNoahhasn’tsleptwithmeyet.ItmayseemstrangetoHardin,who’s
withadifferentgirleveryweekend,butNoahisagentleman.Wedon’tneedto
havesex;wehavefuntogetherdoingotherthingslike...well...wegotothe
moviesandgoforwalks.
Withthatinmind,Iliedown,butquicklyfindmyselfstaringattheceiling,
countingthetilesinanattempttogotosleep.Occasionallythedrunkguyrustles
aroundontheotherbed,buteventuallymyeyescloseandIbegintodriftoff.
“Ihaven’tseenyou...aroundherebefore,”adeepvoicesuddenlyslursin
myear.Ijumpupandhisheadbumpsmychin,causingmetobitemytongue.
Hishandisonthebed,inchesawayfrommythighs.Hisbreathingisraggedand
smellslikevomitandliquor.“What’syourname,cutie?”hebreathes,andIgag.
Iliftonethinarmuptopushhimawayfromme,butitdoesn’twork,andhejust
laughs.
“I’mnotgoingtohurtyou—we’rejustgoingtohavesomefun,”hesaysand
lickshislips,leavingastringofsalivadownhischin.
MystomachturnsandtheonlythingIcanthinktodoistokneehim,hard.
Hard and right there. He grabs his crotch and stumbles back, giving me my
chancetobolt.Oncemyshakyfingersfinallyopenthelock,Irushoutintothe
hallway,whereseveralpeoplegivemeoddstares.
“Come on, come back here!” I hear the disgusting voice say, not too far
behindme.Strangely,nobodyseemsfazedbyagirlbeingchaseddownthehall.
Heisonlyafewfeetaway,butfortunatelyissodrunkhekeepsstumblinginto
thewall.Myfeetactoftheirownaccord,takingmedownthehalltotheonly
placeIknowinthisdamnedfraternityhouse.
“Hardin!Hardin,pleaseopenthedoor!”Iyell,onehandbangingonthedoor
andonetryingtotwistthelockeddoorknob.
“Hardin!”Iscreamagainandthedoorfliesopen.Idon’tknowwhatmademe
cometohisroomofallplaces,butIwouldtakeHardin’sjudgmentalismoverthe
drunkguytryingtohavehiswaywithmeanyday.
“Tess?”Hardinasks,seemingconfused.Hewipeshiseyeswithhishand.He
iswearingonlyblackboxerbriefs,andhishairisjuttingoutalloverhishead.
Weirdly,Iammoresurprisedbyhowgoodhelooksthanbythefacthecalledme
“Tess”foronceinsteadof“Theresa.”
“Hardin, please can I come in? This guy . . .” I say and look behind me.
Hardinpushespastmeandlooksdownthehall.Hiseyesmeetmystalker,and
thecreepchangesfromscarytofrightened.Helooksatmeonemoretimebefore
turningaroundandwalkingbackdownthehall.
“Doyouknowhim?”Myvoiceisshakyandsmall.
“Yeah,getinside,”hesaysandpullsmebymyarmintohisroom.Ican’thelp
butnotethewayhismusclesmoveunderhisinkedskinashewalkstohisbed.
Hisbackhasnotattoosonit,whichisalittlestrangesincehischest,arms,and
stomach are covered. He rubs his eyes again. “Are you okay?” His voice is
raspierthaneverfromjustbeingwokenup.
“Yeah . . . yes. I’m sorry for coming here and waking you up. I just didn’t
knowwhat—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Hardin’s hand runs through his messy hair and he
sighs.“Didhetouchyou?”heasks,withoutanytraceofsarcasmorhumor.
“No,he tried,though. Iwas stupidenough tolock myselfin aroom witha
drunkstranger,soIsupposeit’smyfault.”Theideaofthatcreeptouchingme
makesmewanttocry,again.
“It’s not your fault that he did that. You aren’t used to this type of . . .
situation.” His voice is kind and totally the opposite of his usual tone. I walk
acrosstheroomtowardhisbed,silentlyaskinghimforpermission.Hepatsthe
bed,andIsitdownwithmyhandsinmylap.
“Ihavenoplansongettingusedtoit.ThisreallyisthelasttimeI’mcoming
here,ortoanyparties,forthatmatter.Idon’tknowwhyIeventried.Andthat
guy...hewasjustso...”
“Don’tcry,Tess,”Hardinwhispers.
Andthefunnythingis,Ihadn’trealizedIwas.Hardinbringshishandup,and
Ialmostflinchaway,butnotbeforethepadofhisthumbcapturesthetearfrom
mycheek.My lipspartin surprise fromhis gentle touch.Who is this guy and
whereisthesnarky,rudeHardin?Ilookuptomeethisgreeneyesandhispupils
dilate.
“Ihadn’tnoticedhowgrayyoureyesare,”hesays,solowthatIleancloserto
hearhim.Hishandisstillonmyface,andmymindisracing.Pullinghalfofhis
bottomlipinhismouth,hetakeshislipringbetweenhisteeth.Oureyesmeet,
andIlookdown,unsureofwhat’sgoingon.Butwhenheremoveshishand,I
look at his lips once more, and I can feel my conscience and my hormones
battling.
Butmyconscienceloses,andIcrashmylipsagainsthis,catchinghimtotally
offguard.
chapternineteen
IhavenoideawhatI’mdoing,butIcan’tstop.AsmylipstouchHardin’sIfeel
hissharpintakeofbreath.Hardin’smouthtastesjustlikeIhadimagined.Ican
tastethefainthintofmintonhistongueasheopenshismouthandkissesme.
Reallykissesme.HiswarmtonguerunsalongmineandIcanfeelthecoldmetal
of his lip ring on the corner of my mouth. My entire body feels like it’s been
ignited;Ihaveneverfeltlikethisbefore.Hebringshishandtomyface,cupping
myflushedcheeks,beforebothofhishandsgotomyhips.Hepullsbackalittle
andplantsasmallkissonmylips.
“Tess,” he breathes out, then quickly brings his mouth back to mine, his
tongueslidinginoncemore.Mymindisnolongerincharge;thesensationhas
takenovereveryinchofme.Hardinpullsmebymyhipsclosertohimashelies
backonthebed,neverbreakingourkiss.Unsureofwhattodowithmyhands,I
putthemagainsthischest,andthenclimbontohistorso.Hisskinishotandhis
chestismovingupanddownwithhisrapidbreaths.Hepullshismouthaway
frommineandIwhimperatthelossofcontact,butbeforeIcancomplainhe’sat
myneck.Ifeeleveryswipeandlickhistonguemakes.Hisbreathmovesacross
me.Hegrabsholdofmyhairtokeepmyheadjustabovehisashecontinuesto
kiss my neck. His teeth graze my collarbone and I moan, the feeling shooting
down my whole body when he begins gently sucking on my skin. I would be
embarrassedifIwasn’tsointoxicated,byHardinandthealcohol.Ihavenever
kissedanyonelikethis,notevenNoah.
Noah!
Isay,“Hardin...stop,”butIdon’trecognizemyvoice.It’slowandhusky,
andmymouthisdehydrated.
Hedoesn’tstop.
“Hardin!”I say again, my voice clearand sharp, and he lets go of my hair.
WhenIlookintohiseyes,theyaredarker,yetsofter,andhislipsareadeeper
pinkandswollenfromkissingme.“Wecan’t,”Isay.EventhoughIreallywant
tokeepkissinghim,IknowIcan’t.
Thesoftnessinhiseyesdisappearsandhepullshimselfup,knockingmeonto
theothersideofthebed.Whatjusthappened?
“I’msorry,I’msorry,”Isay,andtheyaretheonlywordsIcanthinkof.My
heartfeelslikeitwillexplodeanysecond.
“Sorryforwhat?”hesaysandwalksovertohisdresser.Hepullsoutablack
T-shirtandpullsitoverhishead.Myeyesgodowntohisboxersagainandthey
arenoticeablytighterinthefront.
Iflushandlookaway.“Forkissingyou...”Isay,thoughsomethinginme
reallydoesn’twanttoapologizeforthat.“Idon’tknowwhyIdidit.”
“Itwasjustakiss;peoplekissallthetime,”Ihearhimsay.
Hiswordshurtmyfeelingsforsomereason.NotthatIcareifhedidn’tfeel
whatIdid...WhatdidIfeel?IknowIdon’tactuallylikehim.Iamjustdrunk
andheisattractive.Ithasbeenalongnightandthealcoholmademekisshim.
Somewherein the backof my mind I fight down the thoughts of how much I
wantedittohappenagain.Hewasjustbeingsonice,that’swhy.
“Canwenotmakeabigdealofit,then?”Iask.Iwouldbehumiliatedifhe
toldanyone.Thisisn’tme.Idon’tgetdrunk,andIdon’tcheatonmyboyfriend
atparties.
“Trustme,Idon’twantanyonetoknowaboutthis,either.Now,stoptalking
aboutit,”hesnaps.
Andthere’shisarroganceagain.“Sonowyou’rebacktoyouroldself,Isee?”
“I never was anyone else—don’t think because you kissed me, basically
againstmywill,wehavesomesortofbondnow.”
Ouch.Againsthiswill?Icanstillfeelthewayhishandgrippedmyhair,the
way he pulled me on top of him, and the way his lips mouthed “Tess” before
kissingmeagain.
Ishootupoffthebed.“Youcouldhavestoppedme.”
“Hardly,”hescoffsandIfeellikecryingagain.Hemakesmetooemotional.
It’s too humiliating, toopainful how he’sbasicallysaying Iforced himto kiss
me.Iburymyheadinmyhandsforamomentandheadforthedoor.
“You can stay in here tonight since you have nowhere else to go,” he says
quietly,butIshakemyhead.Idon’twanttobeanywherenearhim.Thisisall
partofhislittlegame.HewilloffertoletmestayinhisroomsoI’llthinkheisa
decentperson,thenhewillprobablydrawsomevulgardesignonmyforehead.
“No,thanks,”Isayandwalkout.WhenIreachthestairs,IthinkIhearhim
callmynamebutIkeepgoing.Outside,thecoolbreezefeelswonderfulagainst
myskin,Isitonthefamiliarstonewallandturnmyphonebackon.It’salmost4
a.m.Ishouldbewakingupinanhourtogetanearlyshowerandstartstudying.
InsteadI’msittingonthisbrokenstonewall,aloneandinthedark.
With a few stragglers milling about, and unsure what to do, I pull out my
phoneandscrollthroughthetextmessagesfromNoahandmymother.Ofcourse
hetoldher.It’swhathewoulddo...
ButIcan’tevenbeupsetwithhim.Ijustcheatedonhim.Whatwouldgive
metheright?
chaptertwenty
Ablockawayfromthefrathouse,thestreetsaredarkandquiet.Theotherfrat
housesaren’tasbigasHardin’s.AfteranhourandahalfofwalkingandGPS-
obsessing,I finally reach the campus.Fully sober and figuring thatI might as
wellstayawake,Istopatthe7-Elevenandgrabacup.
As the caffeine hits me, I realize that there are so many things I don’t
understandaboutHardin.Like:whyisheinafraternitywithabunchofpreppy
richkidsifheispunk,andwhydoeshegofromhottocoldsoquickly?It’sall
academic musing, though, since I don’t know why I even bother to waste my
timethinkingabouthim,andaftertonightIambeyonddonetryingtobefriendly
withhim.Ican’tbelieveIkissedhim.ThatwasthebiggestpossiblemistakeI
couldhavemade,andthesecondIletmyguarddownheattacked,worsethan
ever. I’m not stupid enough to trust that he won’t tell anyone, but I hope his
embarrassmentoverkissing“thevirgin”willkeephimquiet.Iwilldenyituntil
thegraveifanyoneasks.
IneedtocomeupwithagoodexplanationformymotherandNoahformy
behaviortonight.Notthekissing—theywillneverknowaboutthat—butthatI
was at a party. Again. But I also really need to have a talk with Noah about
tellingmymotherthings;ifI’manadultnow,shedoesn’tneedtoknowwhatI
amdoingallthetime.
BythetimeIreachmydorm,mylegsandfeethurtandIactuallysighinrelief
asIturntheknob.
ButthenInearlyhaveaheartattackatthesightofHardinsittingonmybed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I half scream when I finally regain my
composure.
“Where were you?” he asks calmly. “I drove around trying to find you for
almosttwohours.”
What?“What? Why?”As in,if hewas goingto do that, why didn’the just
offertotakemehomeearlier?Moreimportantly,whydidn’tIaskhimtoassoon
asIfoundouthehadn’tbeendrinking?
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be walking around at night,
alone.”
AndbecauseIcannolongerreadhisexpressions,andbecauseStephiswho-
knows-whereandI’maloneherewithhim,thepersonwhoseemstobethereal
dangertome,allIcandoislaugh.It’sawildlaugh,raggedandnotreallyme.
Andit’sdefinitelynotbecauseIfindthisfunny,butbecauseI’mtoodrainedto
doanythingelse.
Hardin furrows his brows, frowning at me, which only makes me laugh
harder.
“Getout,Hardin—justgetout!”
Hardin looks at me and runs his hands through his hair. Which is at least
something;inthelittletimethatIhaveknownthisfrustratingmanthatisHardin
Scott, I have learned that he does that when he is either stressed or
uncomfortable.RightnowIhopeit’sboth.
“Theresa,I’m—”hebegins,buthiswordsarecutoffbyaterriblepounding
onthedoor,andscreaming:“Theresa!TheresaYoung,youopenthisdoor!”
Mymother.It’smymother.At6a.m.,whenaboyisinmyroom.
ImmediatelyIspringintoaction,asIalwaysdowhenfacedwithheranger.
“OhmyGod,Hardin,getinthecloset,”Iwhisper-hissandgrabhisarm,yanking
himupoffthebedandsurprisingusbothwithmystrength.
He looks down at me, amused. “I am not hiding in the closet. You’re
eighteen.”
Hesaysit—andIknowhe’sright—buthedoesn’tknowmymother.Igroanin
frustrationandshepoundsagain.Thedefiancewithwhichhisarmsarecrossed
overhischesttellsmeI’mnotmovinghim,soIcheckthemirror,wipingatthe
bagsundermyeyes,andgrabmytoothpaste,smearingalittleonmytongueto
conceal the smell of vodka even beyond my coffee breath. Maybe all three
scentswillconfusehernoseorsomething.
I’m all ready with a pleasant face and greeting on my lips when I open the
door,butit’sthenthatIseemymotherhasn’tcomealone.Noahisstandingat
herside—ofcourseheis.Shelooksfurious.Andhelooks...concerned?Hurt?
“Hey.Whatareyouguysdoinghere?”Isaytothem,butmymotherpushes
bymeandgoesstraightforHardin.Noahslipssilentlyintotheroom,lettingher
takethelead.
“Sothisiswhyyouhaven’tbeen answeringyourphone?Becauseyouhave
this . . . this . . .” She waves her arms around in his direction. “Tattooed
troublemakerinyourroomatsixa.m.!”
Myblood boils.I amusually timidand sortof afraidwhen itcomes toher.
Shehasneverhitmeoranythingbutsheisn’tshywhenitcomestopointingout
mymistakes:
Youaren’twearingthat,areyou,Tessa?
Youshouldhavebrushedyourhairagain,Tessa.
Ithinkyoucouldhavedonebetterthanthatonyourtests,Tessa.
She always puts so much pressure on me to be perfect all the time, it’s
exhausting.
Forhispart,NoahjuststandsthereglaringatHardin,andIwanttoscreamat
both of them—actually at all three of them. My mother for treating me like a
child.Noahfortellingonme.AndHardinforjustbeingHardin.
“Isthiswhatyoudoincollege,younglady?Youstayupallnightandbring
boysbacktoyourroom?PoorNoahwasworriedsickaboutyou,andwedrive
allthiswaytofindyourunningaroundwiththesestrangers,”shesays,andNoah
andIbothgasp.
“Actually, I just got here. And she wasn’t doing anything wrong,” Hardin
says, and I am shocked. He has no idea what he is up against. Still: he’s an
immovable object, she’s an unstoppable force. Maybe this would be a good
fight.Mysubconscioustempsmetogrababagofpopcornandsitdowninthe
frontrowtowatch.
My mother’s face gets mean. “Excuse me? I certainly was not speaking to
you. I don’t even know what someone like you is doing hanging around my
daughteranyway.”
Hardinabsorbstheblowmutelyandjustremainsstandingandstaringather.
“Mother,”Isaythroughmyteeth.
I’mnotsurewhyI’mdefendingHardin,butIam.Maybepartofitisthatshe
sounds a bit too much like how I treated Hardin when I first met him myself.
Noahlooksatme,thenatHardinandbacktomeagain.CanhetellthatIjust
kissedHardin?Thememoryisfreshinmymindandmakesmyskintinglejust
thinkingaboutit.
“Tessa,youareoutofcontrol.Icansmelltheliquoronyoufromhere,andI
canonlyassumethatthisistheinfluenceofyourlovelyroommateandhim,”she
says,punctuatingitwithanaccusingfinger.
“I am eighteen, Mother. I have never drank before and I didn’tdo anything
wrong.Iamjustdoingwhateveryothercollegestudentisdoing.I’msorrythat
mycellphonebatterydied,andthatyoudroveallthewayhere,butI’mfine.”
Suddenlyexhaustedfromthelastfewhours,Isitdownatmydeskchairaftermy
speechandshesighs.
Seeingmy resignation givesmymother acalmerdemeanor somehow;she’s
not a monster, after all. Turning to Hardin, she says, “Young man, could you
leaveusforaminute?”
HardinlooksatmeasifaskingifIwillbeokay.Inodandhenodsbackand
walksoutoftheroom.Noahswiftlyclosesthedoorbehindhim,hiseyestrailing
Hardinallthewhile.It’sastrangesensation,HardinandItogetheragainstmy
mother and my boyfriend. Somehow I know he’ll be waiting somewhere just
outsidethedooruntiltheyleave.
Forthenexttwentyminutes,mymothersitsonmybedandexplainsthatshe
isjustworriedaboutmeruiningmychanceatanamazingeducationanddoesn’t
want me to drink again. She also tells me that she doesn’t approve of my
friendship with Steph, Hardin, or anyone else in their group. She makes me
promisethatIwillstophangingaroundwiththem,andIagree.Aftertonight,I
don’t want to be around Hardin anyway, and I won’t be going to any more
partieswithSteph,sothere’snowaymymotherwillknowifIamfriendlywith
herornot.
Finally, she stands up and claps her hands together. “Since we are already
here,let’sgogetsomebreakfastandmaybedosomeshopping.”
Inodinagreement,andNoahsmilesfromwherehe’sleaningonmydoor.It
does sound like a good idea and I am starving. My thoughts are still a little
stifledbyalcoholandtiredness,butmywalkhome,thecoffee,andmymother’s
lecturehavesoberedme.Iheadforthedoor,butstopwhenmymothercoughs.
“You’ll need to clean up a little and change, of course.” She smiles her
condescendingsmile.Igogetsomecleanclothesoutofmydresserandchange
inthecloset.Itouchuplastnight’smakeupandamreadytogo.Noahopensthe
doorforus,andweallthreelookatwhereHardinissittingonthefloor,leaning
against the door across the hall. When he looks up, Noah grasps my hand,
tightly,protectively.
Still,Ifindmyselfwantingtopullmyhandawayfromhim.Whatiswrong
withme?
“Wearegoingtogointotown,”ItellHardin.
In response, Hardin nods several times, like he’s answered some question
deep within himself. And for the first time he looks vulnerable, and maybe a
littlehurt.
Hehumiliatedyou,mysubconscious reminds me.Which is true,but I can’t
help feeling guilty as Noah pulls me along past Hardin and my mother gives
Hardinavictorysmile,causinghimtolookaway.
“Ireallydon’tlikethatguy,”Noahsays,andInod.
“Me,either,”Iwhisper.
ButIknowI’mlying.
chaptertwenty-one
BreakfastwithNoahandmymotherisagonizinglyslow.Mymothercontinues
tobringupmy“wildnight”andfindseveryopportunitytoaskmeifIamtired
or hungover. Granted, last night was very out of character for me, but I don’t
reallyneedtohearaboutitoverandover.Hasshealwaysbeenthisway?Iknow
she just wants the best for me, but she seems to be worse now that I’m in
college; or maybe being away from her for a week has given me a newfound
outlookonher.
“Where should we shop?” Noah asks between mouthfuls of pancake, and I
shrug.Iwishhehadjustcomealone.Iwouldlovetospendtimewithhim.Ido
needtohaveatalkwithhimaboutnottellingmymothereverydetailofmylife,
especiallythebad,andifwewerejustalonethatwouldbeeasier,too.
“Maybe we should go to the mall around the block. I’m not really familiar
withtheareayet,”Itellthem,cuttingthelastfewbitesofmyFrenchtoastinto
pieces.
“Haveyouthoughtaboutwhereyouwanttoworkyet?”Noahasks.
“I’m not sure yet. A bookstore maybe? I wish I could find an internship or
somethingrelatedtopublishingorwriting,”Itellthem,whichelicitsfrommy
motheranaward-winningproudsmile.
“Thatwouldbegreat,somewhereyoucouldworkuntilyoufinishcollegeand
thatcouldthenhireyoufull-time,”shesays,smilingagain.
Itrytohidemysarcasmwith“Yeah,thatwouldbeideal,”butNoahcatchesit
andgrabsmyhandtogiveitalittleconspiratorialsqueezeunderthetable.
AsIputmyforkintomymouth,themetalremindsmeofHardin’slipring.
And I pause for a moment. Noah catches this, too, and looks at me with
questioningeyes.
IneedtostopthinkingaboutHardin.Now.IsmileatNoahandpullhishand
uptokissit.
Afterbreakfast my mother drives usto the Benton Mall, whichis huge and
crowded.“IamgoingtogointoNordstrom’s,soI’llcallyouwhenIamready,”
shetellsus,tomyrelief.Noahtakesmyhandagainandwebrowsethrougha
bunchofstores.HetellsmeabouthissoccergameonFriday,andhowheshot
thewinninggoal.Ilistenintentlyandtellhimhowgreatitallsounds.
“You look nice today,” I tell him and he smiles. His perfect white smile is
adorable. He is wearing a maroon cardigan, khakis, and dress shoes. Yes, he
reallydoeswearloafers,buttheyarecuteandsomehowfithispersonality.
“Youdo,too,Tessa,”hesaysandIcringe.IknowIlooklikehell,butheis
too unfalteringly kind to tell me so. Unlike Hardin, who would tell me in a
heartbeat.Ugh,Hardin.DesperatelywantingtogetmymindoffMr.Rude,Ipull
Noahintomebytheneckofhiscardigan.WhenIgotokisshim,hesmilesbut
pullsaway.
“Whatareyoudoing,Tessa?Everyone’sstaringatus.”Hegesturestowarda
groupofadultstryingonsunglassesatakiosk.
Ishrugplayfully.“No,theyaren’t.Andsowhat?”Ireallydon’tcare;usuallyI
would,butIneedhimtokissme.“Justkissme,please,”Ipracticallybeg.
Hemustseethedesperationinmyeyesbecausehetiltsmychinupandkisses
me.It’sgentleandslow,nourgencybehindit.Histonguebarelytouchesmine
but it’s nice. Familiar and warm. I wait for a fire to ignite within me, but it
doesn’t.
I can’t compare Noah to Hardin. Noah is my boyfriend, whom I love, and
Hardinisajerkwhohasarosterofgirlshehooksupwith.
“What’sgottenintoyou?”NoahteasesasItrytopullhisbodyagainstmine.
Iflushandshakemyhead.“Nothing,Ijustmissedyou,that’sall,”Itellhim.
Oh...andIcheatedonyoulastnight,mysubconsciousadds.Ignoringthat,I
say,“But,Noah,couldyoupleasestoptellingmymotherwhenIdothings?It
makesmereallyuncomfortable.IlovethatyouareclosetoherbutIfeellikea
childwhenyoubasicallytellonme.”Itfeelsgoodtogetthatoffmychest.
“Tessa,Iamsosorry. Iwas justworried about you.I promiseI won’tdo it
again.Honestly.”Hewrapshisarmaroundmyshoulderandkissesmyforehead,
andIbelievehim.
The rest of the day is better than the morning, mostly because my mother
takesmetoasalonandIgetmyhairtrimmedandsomelayersaddedintoit.It
stillhangs down my back but with my new cut it has more volume and looks
much better. Noah showers me with compliments the entire drive back to my
dorm,and everythingjust feels right. I say goodbye tothem atthe front door,
once again promising to stay away from anyone with a tattoo and within a
hundred-mile radius. When I walk into my dorm room, I feel a tinge of
disappointmenttofinditempty,butI’mnotsureifIwashopingtoseeStephor
someoneelse.
I don’t even bother taking my shoes off before I lie in my bed. I’m too
exhaustedandinneedofsleep.Isleepthenightawayanddon’twakeupuntil
noon. When I wake up, Steph’s asleep in her bed. I go study for the rest of
Sunday,andwhenIreturnshe’sgone.Mondaymorningshe’sstillnotback,and
Istartfeelingastrongurgetocatchuponwhatshewasdoingallweekend.
chaptertwenty-two
Before heading to my first class, I stop to grab my usual at the coffeehouse,
whereLandoniswaitingformewithasmile.Afterourhellos,we’reinterrupted
byagirlaskingforintricatedirections,andsowedon’tgetthechancetocatch
upuntilwe’rewalkingtoourlastclassoftheday.TheclassthatalldayIhave
beendreading,butanticipating.
“Howwasyourweekend?”LandonasksandIgroan.
“Terrible, actually. I went to another party with Steph,” I tell him and he
makes a sour face and laughs. “I’m sure yours was much better. How is
Dakota?”
HissmilegrowsatthementionofhernameandIrealizethatIdidn’tmention
seeing Noah on Saturday. Landon tells me about Dakota applying to a ballet
companyinNewYorkandhowhappyheisforher.Allthewhile,Iwonderif
Noah’seyeslightuplikethatwhenhetalksaboutme.
As we walk into class, he’s telling me how his father and stepmother were
thrilledtoseehim,butIfindmyselfsearchingtheroomandnotlisteningvery
closelytohim;Hardin’sseatisempty.
“Won’titbehardifDakotaisgonesofar?”Imanagetoaskaswetakeour
seats.
“Well,wearealreadyfarfromeachothernow,butitworks.Ireallyjustwant
thebestforher,andifNewYorkisit,that’swhereIwanthertobe.”
Theprofessorwalksin,silencingus.Where’sHardin?Hewouldn’tskipclass
justtoavoidme,wouldhe?
We dive into Pride and Prejudice—a magical book that I wish everyone
wouldread—andbeforeIrealizeittheclassisover.
“You’vecutyourhair,Theresa.”Iturn aroundtoseeHardinsmilingbehind
me.HeandLandonexchangeawkwardstaresandItrytothinkofwhattosay.
He wouldn’t mention the kiss in front of Landon, would he? Those dimples,
deepasever,tellmethatyes,yeshewould.
“Hey,Hardin,”Isay.
“Howwasyourweekend?”Hisexpressionissosmug.
IpullLandonbythearm.“Good.Well,seeyouaround!”Iyellnervouslyand
Hardinlaughs.
Whenwe’reoutside,Landonasks,“Whatwasthatabout?”obviouslycatching
ontomystrangebehavior.
“Nothing,Ijustdon’tlikeHardin.”
“Atleastyoudon’thavetoseehimoften.”
Butthereissomethingbehindhisvoice,andwhywouldhesaythat?Doeshe
knowaboutthekiss?
“Um...yeah.ThankGod,”isallIcanmuster.
He pauses. “I wasn’t going to say anything, because I don’t want you to
associate me with him, but”—he smiles nervously—“Hardin’s dad is sort of
datingmymom.”
What?“What?”
“Hardin’sdad—”
“Yes, yes, I got that, but Hardin’s dad lives here? Why is Hardin here—I
thoughthewasBritish?Ifhisdadliveshere,whydoesn’thelivewithhim?”I
flood Landon with questionsbefore I can stop myself. He looks confused, but
lessnervousthanamomentago.
“He’sfromLondon;hisdadandmymomliveclosetothecampus,butHardin
andhisdaddon’thaveagoodrelationship.Sopleasedon’tmentionanyofthis
tohim.Wealreadydon’tlikeeachother.”
Inod.“Sure,okay.”Athousandmorequestionscometomymind,butIstay
quietasmyfriendgoesbacktotalkingaboutDakota,hiseyesbrighteningwith
eachwordabouther.
WHENIGETBACKTOMYROOM,Stephisn’tbackyetsinceherclassesrun
twohourspastmine.Istarttolayoutmybooksandnotestogetreadytostudy,
butdecidetocallNoahinstead.Hedoesn’tpickup,anditreallymakesmewish
he was here with me at college. It would make things so much easier and
comfortable.Wecouldbestudyingorwatchingamovietogetherrightnow.
Still, I know that I’m thinking about this because of my guilt about kissing
Hardinisconsumingme—Noahissosweetandhedoesn’tdeservetobecheated
on. I am so lucky to have him in my life. He’s always there for me, and he
knows me better than anyone. We have known each other basically our whole
lives. When his parents moved in down the street, I was ecstatic to have
someonemyagetohangoutwith,andthefeelingonlygrewasIgottoknow
himandlearnedhewasanoldsoullikeme.Wespentourtimereading,watching
movies, and bringing life into the greenhouse behind my mother’s place. The
greenhousehasalwaysbeenmysafehaven;whenmydaddrankIwouldhidein
thereandnooneexceptNoahknewwheretofindme.Thenightmydadleftwas
a terrible night for me, and my mother refuses to speak of it, ever. Doing so
would shatter the perfect façade she has created for herself, but I still want to
talkaboutitsometimes.EventhoughIhatedhimfordrinkingsomuch,andfor
pushingmymotheraround,Istillfeltthedeepneedtohaveafather.Thatnight,
stowed away in the greenhouse while my dad screamed and went wild, I kept
hearingglassesshatteringinthekitchen,andthen,whenitstopped,footsteps.I
wasterrifiedmy fatherwascoming forme, but itwas Noah. AndI had never
beensorelievedinallmylifetoseesomeonesafe.Fromthatdayonwewere
inseparable.Over theyears, our friendship turned intomore, andneither ofus
haseverdatedanyoneelse.
I text Noah that I love him and decide to take a catnap before I begin my
studies.Ipulloutmyplannerandcheckmyworkonemoretime,Icansurelyfit
inatwenty-minutenap.
Noteventenminutesintomynap,there’saknockatthedoor.FiguringSteph
musthaveforgottenherkey,Igroggilypullthedooropen.
Ofcourseitisn’ther.It’sHardin.
“Stephisn’tbackyet,”Isayandwalkbacktomybed,leavingthedooropen
for him. I’m a little surprised he even bothered to knock, since I know Steph
gavehimanextrakeyasbackupforherself.Iwillhavetotalktoheraboutthat.
“Icanwait,”hesaysandplopsdownonSteph’sbed.
“Suit yourself.” I groan, ignoring his chuckle as I pull the blanket over my
body and close my eyes. Or rather, trying to ignore it. There is no way I am
goingtobeabletosleepknowingthatHardinisinmyroom,butIwouldrather
pretend-sleep than face the awkward, rude talk we are bound to have. I try to
ignorethesoundofhimgentlytappingtheheadboardofherbeduntilmyalarm
goesoff.
“Goingsomewhere?”heasksandIrollmyeyeseventhoughhecan’tseeme.
“No,Iwastakingatwenty-minutenap,”Itellhimandsitup.
“Youset an alarmto makesure your napis onlytwentyminutes?” hesays,
amused.
“Yeah,Ido.Sowhat’sittoyou,anyway?”Igrabmybooksandlaythemout
neatly,inorderofmyclassschedule,andstackthenotesforeachclassontopof
them.
“AreyouOCDorsomething?”
“No,Hardin.Noteveryone’scrazybecausetheyjustlikethingsacertainway.
There’snothingwrongwithbeingorganized,”Isnap.
Andhelaughs,ofcourse.Irefusetolookathim,butoutofthecornerofmy
eye,Icanseehimpushingupoffthebed.
Pleasedon’tcomeoverhere.Pleasedon’tcome...
Andthenhe’sstandingoverme,lookingdownatwhereIsitonmybed.He
grabsmyLiteraturenotesandturnsthemoveracoupleoftimesexaggeratedly
likehe’sstaringatarareartifact.Ireachupforthembut—liketheannoyingjerk
heis—heliftsthemhigher,soIstandandswipeatthem.Buthetossesthemin
theairandtheyfalltothegroundinascatteredmess.
“Pickthoseup!”Idemand.
Hesmirksandsays,“Okay,okay,”butjustgrabsmySociologynotesanddoes
thesamethingtothem.Iscrambletopickthemupbeforehestepsonthem,but
that’sonlyfunnytohim.
“Hardin,stop!”Iyell,justashedoesthesamewiththenextstack.Infuriated,
Istandupandshovehimawayfrommybed.
“Youmean,someonedoesn’tliketheirstuffbeingmessedwith?”heasks,still
laughing.Whymusthealwayslaughatme?
“No!Idon’t!”Iyellandgotoshovehimagain.Hestepstowardmeandgrabs
mywrists,pushingmebackagainstthewall.Hisfaceisinchesfrommine,and
suddenlyI’mawareI’mbreathingwaytoohard.Iwanttoscreamathimtoget
offme,toletmego,anddemandthatheputmyworkback.Iwanttoslaphim,
tomakehimleave.ButIcan’t.I’mfrozenagainstthewallandmesmerizedby
hisgreeneyesburningintomine.“Hardin,please,”aretheonlywordsIfinally
find.Buttheyaresoft.AndI’mnotsureifIambegginghimtoletmego,orkiss
me.Mybreathingstillhasn’tslowed;Icanfeelhisincreasing,thewayhischest
risespowerfully.Secondsfeellikehours,andfinallyheremovesonehandfrom
mywrists,buttheotherislargeenoughtoholdboth.
For a second, I think he might slap me. But his hand moves up to my
cheekboneandthenhegentlytucksmyhairbehindmyear.IswearIcanhear
hispulseashebringshislipstomine—andthefirecracklesundermyskin.
ThisiswhatIhavebeenlongingforsinceSaturdaynight.IfIcouldonlyfeel
onethingfortherestofmylife,thiswouldbeit.
I don’t let myself think about why I am kissing him again or what terrible
thinghewillsayafterward.AllIwanttofocusonisthewayhepresseshisbody
againstminewhenheletsgoofmywrists,pinningmetothewall,andtheway
hismouthtasteslikemintagain.Thewaymytonguesomehowfollowshis,and
thewaymyhandsslideoverhisbroadshoulders.Hishandsgripthebacksofmy
thighsandheliftsmeup,mylegsinstinctivelywrappingaroundhiswaist,and
I’mamazedatthewaymybodysomehowknowshowtorespondtohim.Ibury
myfingersinhishair,gentlytuggingatitwhilehewalksbacktowardmybed,
hislipsstillmoldedtomine.
Theresponsiblevoiceinsidemyheadfindsherwayin,remindingmethatthis
is a terrible idea—but I push her back. I am not stopping this time. I pull
Hardin’s hair harder, earning a moan from him. The sound elicits one of my
own,thetwomixinginthemostheavenlyway.ItisthehottestsoundIhaveever
heardandIwanttodoanythingIcantohearitagain.Hesitsbackonmybed,
pullingmesoI’monhislap.Hislongfingersdigintomyskin,butthepainis
wonderful. My body begins gently rocking back and forth on his lap, and his
griptightens.
“Fuck,”hebreathesintomymouth,andIexperienceasensationIhavenever
feltbeforeasIfeelhimhardenagainstme.
HowfarwillIletthisgo?Iaskmyself,butIdon’thaveananswer.
His hands find the hem of my shirt, and he tugs at it, pulling it up. I can’t
believeI’mlettinghim,butIdon’twanttostop.Hepullsawayfromourheated
kisstogettheshirtovermyhead.Hiseyesmeetmine,thengodowntomychest
ashetakeshislipbetweenhisteeth.
“You’resosexy,Tess.”
Theideaofdirtytalkneverappealedtome,butsomehowHardinsayingthose
wordsbecomesthemostsensualthingIhaveeverheard.Ineverbuyanyfancy
underwearbecausenoone,literallynoone,everseesthem,butrightnowIwish
Ihad somethingbesides thisplain black bra. He’s probably seen every type of
bra there is, the annoying voice in my head reminds me. To try to get such
thoughts out of my head, I rock harder against his lap, and he wraps his arms
aroundmybackandpullsmybodytohis,ourcheststouching...
Thedoorhandlejingles.IpushmyselfoffHardin’slapandthrowmyshirton,
thetranceIwasinimmediatelybroken.
StephstepsthroughthedoorandstopsshortwhensheseesmeandHardin.As
shetakesinthescenebeforeher,hermouthformsanO.
Iknowmycheeksare brightrednotonlyfromtheembarrassmentbut from
thewayHardinhasmademefeel.
“WhatthehelldidImiss?”shegasps,staringatusbothwithahugegrin.I
swearhereyesarepracticallyclappingwithglee.
“Nothing much,” Hardin says and stands. He walks to the door and doesn’t
look back as he walks out of the room, where I’m left panting and Steph
laughing.
“What the actual hell was that!?” she asks me and then covers her face in
mockhorror.But she’s tooexcited bythe gossip and pops backquickly.“You
andHardin...YouandHardinarelikemessingaround?”
I turn and pretend to look through the stuffon mydesk. “No! Noway! We
aren’tmessingaround,”Itellher.Arewe?No,wejusthappenedtokiss,twice.
And he took my shirt off, and I was basically humping him—but we aren’t
messingaround,likeregularly.“Ihaveaboyfriend,remember?”
Shecomesovertofaceme.“So...thatdoesn’tmeanyoucan’tmessaround
withHardin—Ijustcan’tbelieveit!Ithoughtyouguyshatedeachother.Well,
Hardinhates everyone.But I thought he hated you evenmore than hisnormal
hatredforpeople,”shesays,thenlaughs.“Whendidthiseven...howdidthis
happen?”
I sit on her bed and run my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know. Well,
SaturdaywhenyouleftthepartyIendedupinhisroombecausethiscreeptried
tohitonme,andthenIkissedHardin.Wepromisedtoneverspeakofitagain—
butthenhecamebytodayandhestartedmessingwithme,notinthatway.”I
pointatthebed,whichonlymakeshersmirkgrow.“Likehewasthrowingmy
stuffaroundandIpushedhimandthensomehowweendeduponthebed.”
ItsoundssobadasIrepeatit.Ireallyamactingsooutofcharacter,justlike
mymothersaid.Iputmyhandsovermyface.HowcouldIdothistoNoah—
again?
“Whoa,thatsoundshot,”Stephsays,andIrollmyeyes.
“It’s not—it’sterrible andwrong. I love Noah, and Hardin isa jerk.I don’t
wanttobeanotherconquestofhis.”
“YoucouldlearnalotfromHardin...youknowsexually.”
Mymouthfallsopen.Issheserious?Isthatsomethingshewoulddo...wait,
hasshe?HerandHardin?
“No way, I don’t want to learn anything from Hardin. Or anyone besides
Noah,” I tell her. I can’t imagine Noah and I making out like that. My mind
replaysHardin’swords:You’resosexy,Tess.Noahwouldneversaysomething
likethat—noonehasevercalledmesexybefore.IfeelmycheeksheatupasI
thinkaboutit.“Haveyou?”Iaskalittlesheepishly.
“WithHardin?No.”Andsomethinginsidemefeelsbetterwhenshesaysthat.
Butthenshecontinues.“Well...Ihaven’thadsexwithhim,butwehadalittle
flingwhenwefirstmet,asembarrassingasthatistoadmit.Butnothingcame
fromit;weweresortoffriendswithbenefitsforaboutaweek.”Shesaysitlike
it’snobigdeal,butIcan’thelpthejealousythatstirsinsideme.
“Oh . . . benefits?” I ask. My mouth is completely dry and I find myself
suddenlyannoyedbySteph.
“Yeah,nothingtoobig.Justlikeafewheavymakeoutsessions,agropehere
and there. Nothing serious,” she says and my chest hurts. I’m not surprised
really,butIwishIwouldn’thaveasked.
“Does Hardin have a lot of friends with benefits?” I don’t want to hear the
answer,butIcan’thelpasking.
Shesnortsandsitsdownonherbedacrossfromme.“Yeah,hedoes.Imean,
notlikehundreds,buthe’sapretty...activeguy.”
Icantellshe’sseenhowIreactedandistryingtosugarcoatitformysake.I
make the mental decision for what feels like the hundredth time to stay away
fromhim.Iwillnotbeanyone’sfriendswithbenefits.Ever.
“Hedoesn’tdoittobemeanorusegirls;theyprettymuchthrowthemselves
athim,andhe lets them knowfromthestartthat he doesn’tdate,”shesays.I
rememberher tellingme thatbefore. But it’s not like hesaid thatto mewhen
we...
“Whydoesn’thedate?”Whycan’tIstopaskingthesequestions?
“Idon’tknow,really...Listen,”shesays,hervoicefullofconcern,“Ithink
youcouldhavealotoffunwithHardin,butIalsothinkthiscouldbedangerous
foryou.Unlessyouknowyouwillneverdevelopanysortoffeelingsforhim,I
wouldstayaway.Ihaveseenalotofgirlsfallforhimandit’snotpretty.”
“Oh, trust me, I do not have feelings for him. I don’t know what I was
thinking.”Ilaugh,andhopethatitatleastsoundsgenuine.
Steph nods. “Good. So, how much trouble did you get into with your mom
andNoah?”
Itellherallaboutmymother’slecture,minusthepartaboutmepromisingnot
to be friends with her anymore. We spend the rest of the night talking about
classes,Tristan,andanythingIcanthinkofbesidesHardin.
chaptertwenty-three
The next day Landon and I meet at the coffeehouse before class to compare
notesforSociology.IttookmeanhourtogetallmynotesinorderafterHardin’s
annoyingstuntyesterday.IwanttotellLandonaboutitbutIdon’twanthimto
thinkbadlyofme,especiallynowthatIknowabouthismomandHardin’sdad.
LandonmustknowatonaboutHardin,andIhavetokeepremindingmyselfnot
toaskquestionsabouthim.Besides,Idon’tcarewhatHardindoes.
Thedayfliesbyandfinallyit’stimeforLiterature.Perusual,Hardinisinthe
seatnexttomine,buttodayhedoesn’tseeminclinedtolookmywayatall.
“TodaywillbeourlastdayonPrideandPrejudice,”theprofessorinformsus.
“I hope you all have enjoyed it, and since you’ve all read the ending, it feels
fittingtobasetoday’sdiscussiononAusten’suseofforeshadowing.Letmeask:
asareader,didyouexpectherandDarcytobecomeacoupleintheend?”
Severalpeoplemurmurorrandomlyflipthroughtheirbookslikeit’llprovide
animmediateanswerforthem,butonlyLandonandIraiseourhands,asalways.
“MissYoung,”theprofessorcallsonme.
“Well, the first time I read the novel, I was on the edge of my seat about
whetherornottheywouldenduptogether.Evennow—andIhavereaditatleast
ten times—I still feel anxious during the beginning of their relationship. Mr.
Darcy is so cruel and says such hateful things about Elizabeth and her family
thatIneverknowifshecanforgivehim,letalonelovehim.”Landonnodsatmy
answer,andIsmile.
“That’saload,”avoicecutsthroughthestillness.Hardin’svoice.
“Mr. Scott? Would you like to add something?” the professor asks, clearly
surprisedatHardin’sparticipation.
“Sure. I said that’s a load. Women want what they can’t have. Mr. Darcy’s
rudeattitudeiswhatdrewElizabethtohim,soitwasobvioustheywouldendup
together,”Hardinsays,thenpicksathisfingernailsasifheisn’ttheslightestbit
interestedinthediscussion.
“Thatisn’ttrue,aboutwomenwantingwhattheycan’thave.Mr.Darcywas
only mean to her because he was too proud to admit he loved her. Once he
stoppedhishatefulact,shesawthathereallylovedher,”Isay,muchlouderthan
Iintended.
Muchlouder.Ilookaroundtheroomandfindeveryoneisstaringatmeand
Hardin.
Hardinexhales.“Idon’tknowwhatkindofguysyounormallygofor,butI
thinkthatifhelovedher,hewouldn’thavebeenmeantoher.Theonlyreasonhe
evenendedupaskingfor herhandinmarriagewasbecauseshewouldn’tstop
throwingherselfathim,”hesayswithemphasis,andmyheartdrops.Butfinally
we’regettingatwhathe’sreallythinking.
“Shedidnotthrowherselfathim!Hemanipulatedherinto thinking he was
kindandtookadvantageofherweakness!”Iscream,andthentheroomreally,
trulygoessilent.Hardin’sfaceisflushedwithanger,andIcan’timaginemine
looksmuchdifferent.
“He‘manipulated’her?Tryagain,sheis...Imean,shewassoboredwith
herboringlifethatshehadtofindexcitementsomewhere—soshecertainlywas
throwingherselfathim!”heyellsback,hishandgrippingthedesk.
“Well,maybeifhewasn’tsuchamanwhore,hecouldhavestoppeditafterthe
firsttimeinsteadofshowinguptoherroom!”Afterthewordsleavemymouth,I
knowthatwe’vebeenexposed,andsnickersandgaspsareheardthroughoutthe
room.
“Okay, lively discussion. I think that’s probably enough on that topic for
today...”theprofessorbegins,butIgrabmybagandrunoutoftheroom.
From somewhere behind me in the halls, I hear Hardin’s angry voice yell,
“Youdon’tgettorunthistime,Theresa!”
Igetoutsideandamcrossingthegreenlawn,abouttoreachthecornerofthe
block,whenhegrabsmyarmandIjerkaway.
“Whydoyoualwaystouchmelikethat?GrabmyarmagainandIwillslap
you!”Iscream.Isurprisemyselfatmyharshwords,butI’vehadenoughofhis
crap.
Hegrabsmyarmagain,butIcan’tmanagetofollowthroughonmypromise.
“Whatdoyouwant,Hardin?TotellmehowdesperateIam?Tolaughatmefor
lettingyougettomeagain?Iamsosickofthisgamewithyou—Iwon’tplayit
anylonger.Ihaveaboyfriendwholovesme,andyouareaterribleperson.You
really should see a doctor and get some medication for your mood swings! I
can’t keep up with you. One second you’re nice, then you’re hateful. I want
nothingtodowithyou,sodoyourselfafavorandfindanothergirltoplayyour
games,becauseI’mdone!”
“Ireallydobringouttheworstinyou,don’tI?”heasks.
Iturnawayandattempttoshiftmyfocustothebusysidewalknexttous.A
fewconfusedstudents’eyeslingeronHardinandmeforabeattoolong.WhenI
facehimagain,he’srunninghisfingersacrossasmallholeatthebottomofhis
wornblackT-shirt.
I expect him to be smiling or laughing, but he’s not. If I didn’t know any
better I would think he was . . . hurt? But I do know better and I know he
couldn’tcareless.“I’mnottryingtoplaygameswithyou,”hesaysandrunshis
handoverhishead.
“Thenwhatareyoudoing—becauseyourmoodswingsgivemeaheadache,”
Isnap.Asmallcrowdhasgatheredaroundus,andIwanttocurlintoaballand
disappear.ButIhavetoknowwhathewillsaynext.
Why can’t I stay away from him? I know he’s dangerous and toxic. I have
never been as mean to someone as I am to him. He deserves it, I know, but I
don’treallylikebeingmeantoanyone.
Hardingrabsmyarmyetagainandpullsmeintoasmallalleywaybetween
twobuildings,awayfromthecrowd.“Tess,I...Idon’tknowwhatIamdoing.
Youkissedmefirst,remember?”heremindsme.
“Yeah...Iwasdrunk,remember?Andyoukissedmefirstyesterday.”
“Yeah...Youdidn’tstopme.”Hepauses.“Itmustbeexhausting,”hesays.
What?“Whatmustbeexhausting?”
“Actinglikeyoudon’twantme,when webothknowyoudo,”hesays,and
stepscloser.
“What?Idonotwantyou.Ihaveaboyfriend.”Thewordstumbleouttoofast
andrevealtheirabsurdity,makinghimsmile.
“A boyfriend that you’re bored with. Admit it, Tess. Not to me, but to
yourself.You’reboredwithhim.”Hisvoicelowers,andslowstoasensualpace.
“HasheevermadeyoufeelthewayIdo?”
“W-What?Ofcoursehehas,”Ilie.
“No . . . he hasn’t. I can tell that you’ve never been touched . . . really
touched.”
Hiswordssendanow-familiarburnthroughmybody.“That’snoneofyour
business,”Isayandbackaway,makinghimtakethreestepstowardme.
“YouhavenoideahowgoodIcanmakeyoufeel,”hesays,andIgasp.How
doeshegofromyellingatmetothis?AndwhydoIlikeitsomuch?Ihaveno
words.Hardin’stoneanddirtywordsmakemeweak,vulnerable,andconfused.I
havebecomearabbitinafox’strap.
“Really,youdon’thavetoadmitit.Icantell,”hesays,hisvoicethickwith
arrogance.
ButallIcan do isshakemyhead. His smilegrowsandI instinctively back
againstthewall.Hetakesasteptowardme,andItakeadeep,hopefulbreath.
Notagain.
“Your pulse has quickened, hasn’t it? Your mouth is dry. You’re thinking
aboutmeandhavethatfeeling...downthere.Don’tyou,Theresa?”
Everythingheissayingistrueandthemorehetalkstomelikethis,themoreI
wanthim.It’sstrangetocraveandhatesomeoneatthesametime.Theattraction
Ifeelispurelyphysical,whichissurprisingconsideringhowoppositeheisfrom
Noah.Idon’tremembereverbeingattractedtoanyoneexceptNoah.
I know that if I don’t say something now, he will win. I don’t want him to
havethispowerovermeandwin,too.
“You’rewrong,”Imutter.
Buthesmiles.Andeventhatsendselectricitythroughme.
“I’mneverwrong,”hesays.“Notaboutthis.”
Isteptothesidebeforehefullytrapsmeagainstthewall.“Whydoyoukeep
saying I throw myself at you if you’re the one cornering me now?” I ask, my
angerpushingpastmylustforthismaddeningtattooedboy.
“Because you made the first move on me. Don’t get me wrong, I was as
surprisedasyouwere.”
“I was drunk and had a long night—as you already know. I was confused
becauseyou were being nice to me; well,your versionof beingnice.” I scoot
pasthimandsitdownonthecurbsoIcangetoutofhisspace.Talkingtohimis
soexhausting.
“I’mnotthatmeantoyou,”hesays,loomingoverme,butitsoundsmorelike
aquestionthanastatement.
“Yeah,youare.Yougooutofyourwaytobemeantome.Notjustme,but
everyone.Butitstillseemslikeyouareextrahardonme.”Ican’tbelieveIam
beingthishonestwith him. I knowit’samatterofminutes before he turnson
me.
“That’sjustnottrue.I’mnomeanertoyouthanIamtotherestofthegeneral
population.”
I shoot up. I knew I couldn’t have a normal discussion with him. “I don’t
knowwhyIkeepwastingmytime!”Iyell.Istartwalkingbacktowardthemain
pathwayandlawn.
“Hey,I’msorry.Justcomebackoverhere.”
Igroan,butmyfeetreactbeforemybraincancatchup,andIendupstanding
afewfeetawayfromhim.
HesitsonthecurbwhereIwaspreviouslysitting.“Sit,”hedemands.
AndIdo.
“You’resittingawfullyfaraway,”hesays,andIrollmyeyes.“Youdon’ttrust
me?”
“No,ofcourseIdon’t.WhywouldI?”
His face falls slightly as my words hit him, but he recovers quickly. Why
wouldhecareifItrustedhim?
“Canwejustagreetoeitherstayawayfromeachother,orbefriends?Idon’t
haveitinmetokeepfightingwithyou.”Isigh,andhemovesalittlecloser.
He takes a deep breath before he speaks. “I don’t want to stay away from
you.”
What?Myheartbeatsoutofmychest.
“Imean...Idon’tthinkwecanstayawayfromeachother,withoneofmy
best friends being your roommate and all. So I suppose we should try to be
friends.”
Disappointment bubbles up from nowhere, but this is what I want, right? I
can’tkeepkissingHardinandcheatingonNoah.
“Okay,sofriends?”Isay,pushingdownthisfeeling.
“Friends,”heagreesandreachesouthishandformetoshake.
“Not friends with benefits,” I remind him as I shake, only to feel the blood
rushtomycheeks.
Hechucklesandmoveshishandtoplaywithhiseyebrowring.“Whatmakes
yousaythat?”
“Likeyoudon’tknow.Stephalreadytoldme.”
“What,aboutmeandher?”
“Youandher,andyouandeveryothergirl.”Itrytofakealaughbutitcomes
outasacough,soIcoughalittlemoretotrytocover.
HeraiseshiseyebrowatmebutIignorehim.“Well,meandSteph...that
wasfun.”HesmilesasifrememberingsomethingandIswallowthebilerising
inthebackofmythroat.
“Andyeah,IhavegirlsthatIfuck.Butwhywouldthatconcernyou,friend?”
He’s so nonchalant about the whole thing, but I’m in shock. Hearing him
admittosleepingwithothergirlsshouldn’tbothermebutitdoes.Heisn’tmine:
Noahis.Noahis.Noahis,Iremindmyself.
“Itdoesn’t.Ijustdon’twantyoutothinkthatIwillbeoneofthosegirls.”
“Aww...areyoujealous,Theresa?”hemocksme,andIshovehim.Thereis
nowayinhellIwilleveradmitthat.
“No,absolutelynot.Ifeelsorryforthegirls.”
Heraiseshiseyebrowsplayfully.“Oh,youshouldn’t.Theyenjoyit,trustme.”
“Okay,okay.Igetit.Canwepleasejustchangethesubject?”Isighandlift
my head back to look at the sky. I need to clear the image of Hardin and his
haremoutofmymind.“So,willyoutrytobenicertome?”
“Sure.Willyoutrynottobesouptightandbitchyallthetime?”
Lookingattheclouds,Idreamilysay,“I’mnotbitchy;you’rejustobnoxious.”
I look at him and start laughing; fortunately he joins in. It’s a nice change
fromscreaming at each other.I know we haven’treally resolved the bigissue
here,whichisthefeelingsthatImayormaynothaveforhim,butifIcanjust
gethimtostopkissingme,IcanfocusbackonNoahandstopthisterriblecycle
beforeitgetsworse.
“Lookatus,twofriends.”Hisaccentissocutewhenheisn’tbeingrude.
Hell,eventhenitis,butwhenhisvoiceissofthisaccentmakesitsomuch
softer, like velvet. The way words roll off his tongue and through his pink
lips...Ican’tthinkabouthislips.Itearmyeyesawayfromhisfaceandstand
up,wipingmyskirtoff.
“Thatskirtreallyisdreadful,Tess.Ifwe’regoingtobefriendsyouneedtonot
wearthatanymore.”
ForasecondI’mhurt,butwhenIlookupathim,he’ssmiling.Thismustbe
thewayhejokes;stillrude,butI’lltakethisoverhisusualpuremalice.
Myphonealarmvibrates.“Ineedtogetbackandstudy,”Itellhim.
“Yousetanalarmtostudy?”
“Isetanalarmforalotofthings;it’sjustsomethingIdo.”Ihopehejustlets
thistopicgo.
“Well,setanalarmforustodosomethingfuntomorrowafterclass,”hesays.
WhoisthisandwhereistherealHardin?
“Idon’tthinkmyideaoffunisthesameasyours.”Ican’tevenimaginewhat
“fun”istoHardin.
“Well,we’llonlysacrificeafewcats,burndownonlyafewbuildings...”
Ican’tstopthegigglefromescapingandhesmilesback.
“Really, though, youcould usesome fun,and since weare newfriends, we
shoulddosomethingfun.”
IneedafewmomentstocontemplatewhetherIshouldbealonewithHardin
beforeIanswerhim.ButbeforeIcananswer,heturnstowalkaway.“Good,I’m
gladyou’reaboard.Seeyoutomorrow.”
Andhe’sgone.
I don’tsay anything; I just sit back down on thecurb. My headis spinning
fromthelasttwentyminutes.First,hebasicallyofferedmesex,tellingmeIhave
no idea how good he could make me feel; then, a few minutes later, he was
agreeingtotryto benicetome;thenwewerelaughingand jokinganditwas
nice. There are still so many questions I have about him, but I think I can be
friendswithHardin,likeStephis.Okay,notlikeStephis,butlikeNateoroneof
theirotherfriendswhohangoutwithhim.
Thisisreallythebestthing.Nomorekissing,nomoresexualadvancesfrom
him.Justfriends.
ButasIwalkbacktomyroom,pastalltheotherkidsgoingaboutwithoutany
knowledgeofHardinorhisways,Ican’tquitemanagetoshakethefearthatI
justwalkedintoanotheroneofhistraps.
chaptertwenty-four
ItrytostudywhenIgetbacktomyroombutcan’tseemtofocus.Afterstaring
atmynotesforacoupleofhoursbutnothavingreallyreadanything,Idecidea
shower might help. When they’re crowded, the coed bathrooms still make me
uncomfortable,butnooneevermesseswithme,soI’mgettingusedtothem.
The hot water feels amazing and loosens up my tense muscles. I should be
relievedandhappythatHardinandIhavereachedsomesortoftruce,butnow
anger and annoyance have been replaced by nervousness and confusion. I’ve
agreedto spendtime with Hardin tomorrow,doing something “fun,” and I am
terrified.Ijusthopeitgoeswell;Idon’texpecttobecomebestfriendswithhim,
butIneedustogettoaplacewherewedon’tscreamateachothereverytime
wetalk.
TheshowerfeelssogoodIstayinthereforawhile,andwhenIgetbackto
myroom,Steph’salreadycomeandleft.IfindanotefromhersayingTristanis
takingheroffcampusfordinner.IlikeTristan;heseemsreallynicedespitehis
overuseofeyeliner.IfStephandTristancontinuetoseeeachotherthenmaybe
when Noah comes to visit we could all go do something together. Who am I
kidding?Noahwouldn’twanttohangoutwithpeoplelikethem,butI’maware
enoughtoadmitthatupuntilthreeweeksagoIneverwouldhave,either.
IendupcallingNoahbeforebed;wehaven’ttalkedallday.He’ssopolite,he
asksaboutmydayassoonashepicksup.Itellhimitwasgood;Ishouldtell
himthatHardinandIaregoingtohangouttomorrow,butIdon’t.Hetellsme
thathissoccerteambeatSeattleHighbyalandslide,eventhoughSeattle’sreally
good.AndI’mhappyforhim,becauseheseemsreallyhappytohaveplayedso
well.
THE NEXT DAY GOES BY way too fast. Landon and I walk into Literature
class,andHardinisalreadyinhisseat.“Areyoureadyforourdatetonight?”he
asksandmymouthfallsopen.Landon’sdoes,too.Idon’tknowwhatIfeelmore
conflicted about: Hardin saying it like that, or how it will affect how Landon
seesme.Dayoneofourquesttobecomefriendsisnotgoingwellsofar.
“It’s not a date,” I say to him, then turn to Landon and roll my eyes and
nonchalantlysay,“We’rehangingoutasfriends,”whileignoringHardin.
“Samething,”Hardinreplies.
Iavoidhimfortherestoftheclass...whichiseasysincehedoesn’treally
trytotalktomeafterthat.
After class, as Landon starts puttinghis stuffinto his backpack, he looks at
Hardin,thenquietlysaystome,“Becarefultonight.”
“Oh,we’rejusttryingtogetalongsincemyroommateishisgoodfriend,”I
reply,hopingHardindoesn’thearme.
“Iknow,you’rereallyagreatfriend.I’mjustnotsureHardindeservesyour
kindness,”hesays,purposefullyloud,andIlookupathim.
“Don’tyouhavesomethingelsetodobesidesbad-mouthme?Getlost,man,”
Hardinsnapsfrombehindme.
Landonfrownsandlooksatmeagain.“JustrememberwhatIsaid.”Hewalks
away,andIworryabouthowmuchI’vemaybeupsethim.
“Hey,youdon’thavetobecrueltohim—youguysarepracticallybrothers,”I
say.
Hardin’seyesgowide.“Whatdidyoujustsay?”hegrowls.
“You know, your dad and his mom?” Was Landon lying? Or was I not
supposedtomentionthis.LandonsaidnottobringupHardin’srelationshipwith
hisdad,butIdidn’tthinkhemeantthewholething.
“That is none of your business.” Hardin looks angrily at the door where
Landon disappeared. “I don’t know why the asshole even told you that. I’m
goingtohavetoshuthimup,itseems.”
“Youleavehimalone,Hardin.Hedidn’tevenwanttotellme,butIgotitout
ofhim.”TheideaofHardinhurtingLandonmakesmesick.Ineedtochangethe
subject.“Sowherearewegoingtoday?”Iask,andheglaresatme.
“Wearen’tgoinganywhere;thiswasabadidea,”hesnaps,turnsonhisheels,
andwalksaway.Istandthereforaminute,waitingtoseeifHardinchangeshis
mindandwillcomeback.
Whatthehell?Hereallyisbipolar,I’msureofit.
BACKINMYDORMROOM,IfindZed,Tristan,andStephsittingonherbed.
Tristan’s eyes are focused on Steph and Zed is flicking his thumb across the
triggerofametallighter.Iwouldusuallybeannoyedwiththismanyunexpected
guests,butIreallylikeZedandTristan,andIneedthedistraction.
“Hey,Tessa!Howwereclasses?”Stephasksandgivesmeabigsmile.Ican’t
helpbutnoticethewayTristan’sfacelightsupwhenhelooksather.
“Theywereokay.You?”Iputmybooksonmydresserandshetellsmeabout
herprofessorspillinghotcoffeeonhimself,makingthemgetoutearly.
“You look nice today, Tessa,” Zed tells me, and I say thanks and crowd on
Steph’sbedwiththethreeofthem.Thebedreallyistoosmallforallofus,butit
works. After we’ve been talking about various weird professors for a few
minutes,thedooropensandweallturntoseewhoitis.
It’sHardin.Ugh.
“Geez, man, you could at least knock for once,” Steph scolds him and he
shrugs. “I could have been naked or something.” She laughs, obviously not
angryathislackofmanners.
“NothingI haven’tseen before,” he jokes, and Tristan’s face falls while the
otherthree chuckle. I can’tfindthe humor, either; Ihate thinkingabout Steph
andHardintogether.
“Oh,shutup,”shesays,stilllaughing,andgrabsholdofTristan’shand.His
smilereturnsandhemovesalittleclosertoher.
“What are you guys up to?” Hardin asks and sits opposite us, on my bed. I
wanttotellhimtogetoffbutIkeepquiet.Ithoughtforasecondhehadcome
heretoapologize,butnowIcanseehejustcametohangoutwithhisfriends,
andIamnotoneofthem.
Zedsmiles.“Wewereactuallygoingtogotothemovies.Tessa,youshould
come.”
Before I can answer,Hardin speaks up quickly. “Actually, Tessa and I have
plans.”Thereisastrangeedgetohisvoice.
God,he’ssomoody.
“What?”ZedandStephsayinunison.
“Yeah,Iwasjustcomingtogether.”Hardinstandsupandputshishandsinto
hispockets,gesturingtowardthedoorwithhisbody.“Youreadyorwhat?”
Mymindscreams,No!butInodandslipoffSteph’sbed.
“Well,seeyoualllater!”Hardinannouncesandpracticallypushesmeoutthe
door. Outside, he leads me to his car and, surprising me, opens the passenger
doorforme.Istandstillwithmyarmscrossed,lookingathim.
“Well,I’llremembernottoeveropenadoorforyouagain...”
Ishakemyhead.“Whatthehellwasthat?Iknowfullwellyoudidn’tcome
heretogetme—youjustgotdonetellingmethatyoudidn’twanttohangout
withme!”Iyell.
Andwearebacktoyellingateachother.Hemakesmecrazy,literally.
“Yes,Idid.Nowgetinthecar.”
“No!Ifyoudon’tadmitthatyoudidn’tcomeheretoseeme,Iwillgobackin
thereandgotothemovieswithZed,”Isay,whichmakeshimclenchhisjaw.
Iknewit.Idon’tknowhowtofeelaboutthisrevelation,butsomehowIknew
Hardin didn’t want me to go to the movies with Zed and that that’s the only
reasonhe’stryingtohangoutwithmenow.
“Admitit,Hardin,orIamgone.”
“Okay,fine.Iadmitit.Nowgetinthedamnedcar.Iwon’taskagain,”hesays
andwalksaroundtothedriver’sside.
Againstmybetterjudgment,Igetin,too.
Hardin still looks angry as he pulls out of the parking lot. He turns the
screechingmusicupwaytooloud.Ireachdownandshutitoff.
“Don’ttouchmyradio,”hescolds.
“If you’re going to be a jerk the whole time, I don’twant to hang out with
you.”AndImean it. Ifhe’slikethis,Idon’tcarewhereweare,I’llhitchhike
backtothedormsorsomething.
“I’mnot.Justdon’ttouchmyradio.”
My thoughts go back to Hardin tossing my notes into the air, and in turn I
wanttoyankhisradiooutandthrowitoutthewindow.IfIknewIcouldtearit
fromthedash,Iwould.
“WhydoyoucareifIgotothemovieswithZedanyway?StephandTristan
weregoing,too.”
“Ijustdon’tthinkZedhasthebestintentions,”hesaysquietly,hiseyesglued
totheroad.
Ibegintolaughandhefrowns.“Oh,andyoudo?AtleastZedisnicetome.”
I can’tstop laughing. The idea of Hardin trying to protect me in some way is
hilarious.Zedisafriend,nothingmore.JustlikeHardin.
Hardinrollshiseyesbutdoesn’tgivemeananswer.Heturnsthemusicback
onanditsguitarsandbassliterallyhurtmyears.
“Canyoupleaseturnitdown?”Ibeg.
Tomysurprise,hedoes,butleavesitonforbackgroundnoise.
“Thatmusicisterrible.”
Helaughsandtapsthesteeringwheel.“No,it’snot.ThoughIwouldloveto
knowyouropiniononwhatisgoodmusic.”Whenhesmileslikethis,helooks
so carefree, especially with his window down, the breeze blowing through his
hair.Hereachesonehandupandpusheshishairback.Ilovethewayitlooks
whenit’sbacklikethat.Ishakethethoughtsfrommyhead.
“Well,IlikeBonIver,andtheFray,”Ifinallyanswer.
“Ofcourseyoudo,”hesays,andchuckles.
Idefendmytwofavoritebands.“Whatiswrongwiththem?Theyareinsanely
talented,andtheirmusiciswonderful.”
“Yeah...theyaretalented.Talentedatputtingpeopletosleep.”
When I reach across and playfully swat his shoulder, he mock winces and
laughs.
“Well,Ilovethem,”Isaywith a smile.Ifwecouldjust stay inthisplayful
state,Imightactuallyhaveagoodtime.Ilookoutthewindowforthefirsttime,
butIdon’treallyknowwhereweare.“Wherearewegoing?”
“Tooneofmyfavoriteplaces.”
“Whichiswhere?”
“Youreallyhavetoknoweverythingthatisgoingoninadvance,don’tyou?”
“Yeah...Iliketo—”
“Controleverything?”
Istayquiet.Iknowhe’sright,butthat’sjustthewayIam.
“Well,I’mnottellingyouuntilwegetthere...whichwillbeonlyaboutfive
minutesfromnow.”
Ileanbackagainsttheleatherseatofhiscarandturnmyheadtoglanceatthe
backseat. A messy stack of textbooks and loose papers rest on one side and a
thickblacksweatshirtrestsontheother.
“Seesomethingthatyoulikebackthere?”Hardincatchesmebyembarrassed
surprise.
“Whatkindofcaristhis?”Iask.Ineedadistractionfrombothnotknowing
wherewearegoingandhimcallingmeoutforbeingnosy.
“FordCapri—aclassic,”heboasts,obviouslyproud.Hegoesontotellmeall
aboutiteventhoughIhavenoideawhatheistalkingabout.Still,Iliketowatch
his lips as he talks, the way they move slowly as the words are even slower.
Afterlookingoveratmeafewtimesduringtheconversation,heprettyharshly
says,“Idon’tliketobestaredat,”thoughhedoessmilealittleafter.
chaptertwenty-five
Westart downa gravelroad, andHardin turnsthe musicoffso that the only
noiseisthelittlestonescrunchingbeneaththetires.Isuddenlyrealizeweareout
inthemiddleofnowhere.Igetnervousnow;wearealone,reallyalone.There
arenocars,nobuildings,nothing.
“Don’tworry,Ididn’tbringyououtheretokillyou,”hejokesandIgulp.I
doubtherealizesthatI’mmoreafraidofwhatImightdowhenalonewithhim
thanifhewastoactuallytrytokillme.
Afteranothermilehestopsthecar.Ilookoutthewindowandseenothingbut
grass and trees. There are yellow wildflowers across the landscape and the
breezeisperfectlywarm.Granted,theplaceisniceandserene.Butwhybring
mehere?
“Whatarewegoingtodohere?”IaskhimasIclimboutofthecar.
“Well,first,abitofwalking.”
Isigh.Sohetookmeheretoexercise?
Noticingmy sourexpression, headds, “Not too much walking,” and begins
alongapartofthegrassthatlooksflattenedfrombeingusedanumberoftimes.
We’re both quiet for most of the walk, save a few rude snips from Hardin
about me being too slow. I ignore him and take in my surroundings. I am
beginningtounderstandwhyhelikesthisseeminglyrandomplace.It’ssoquiet.
Peaceful.IcouldstayhereforeveraslongasIbroughtabookwithme.Heturns
offthetrailandgoesintoawoodedarea.Mynaturalsuspiciousnesskicksin,but
Ifollow.Afewminuteslaterweemergefromthewoodstoastream,orreally
moreofariver.Ihavenoideawherewearebutthewaterlooksprettydeep.
Hardin doesn’t say anything as he pulls his black T-shirt over his head. My
eyes scan his inked torso. The way the empty branches of the dead tree are
drawn into his skin is more appealing than haunting under the bright sun. He
thenbendsdowntountiehisdirtyblackboots,glancingupatme,catchingme
staringathishalf-nakedbody.
“Wait,whyareyouundressing?”Iaskandlookatthestream.Ohno.“Youare
goingtoswim?Inthat?”Isayandpointtothewater.
“Yeah, and you are, too. I do it all the time.” He unbuttons his pants and I
havetoforcemyselftonotstareatthewaythemusclesinhisbarebackmove
whenhebendsdownandpullsthemoverhislegs.
“I am not swimming in that.” I don’t mind swimming, but not in a random
placeinthemiddleofnowhere.
“Andwhyisthat?”Hegesturestowardtheriver.“It’scleanenoughthatyou
canseethebottom.”
“So...thereareprobablyfishandGodknowswhatinthere.”Irealizehow
ridiculousIsoundbutIdon’tcare.“Besides,youdidn’ttellmeweweregoing
swimmingsoIhavenothingtoswimin.”Hecan’targuewiththat.
“You’retellingmeyou’rethekindofgirlwhodoesn’twearunderwear?”He
smirks, and I gape at him, and those dimples. “Yeah, so go in your bra and
panties.”
Wait, so he thought I would come out here and take all my clothes off and
swimwithhim?MyinsidesstirandIgetwarmthinkingaboutbeingnakedinthe
waterwithHardin.Whatishedoingtome?Ihavenever,everhadthesetypesof
thoughtsbeforehim.
“Iamnotswimminginmyunderwear,youcreep.”Isitonthesoftgrass.“I’ll
justwatch,”Itellhim.
Hefrowns.Nowonlyinhisboxerbriefs,theblackmaterialistightagainsthis
body.ThisisthesecondtimeIhaveseenhimshirtlessandhelooksevenbetter
here,undertheopensky.
“You’renofun.Andyou’remissingout,”hesaysflatly.Andjumpsintothe
water.
Ikeep myeyes on the grass and pluck a few blades out, playing with them
between my fingers. I hear Hardin call, “The water is warm, Tess!” from the
stream.Frommyspotonthegrass,Icanseethedropsofwaterfallingfromhis
now-blackhair.Heissmilingashepusheshissoakedhairbackandwipeshis
faceoffwithonehand.
For a moment I find myself wishing I was someone else, someone braver.
LikeSteph. IfI wasSteph, Iwould stripdown andjump intothe warmwater
withHardin.Iwouldsplasharoundandclimbupthebankjusttojumpbackand
soakhim.Iwouldbefunandcarefree.
ButI’mnotSteph.I’mTessa.
“Thisisonebeyond-boringfriendshipsofar...”Hardinexclaimsandswims
closertothebank.Irollmyeyesandhechuckles.“Atleasttakeyourshoesoff
andputyourfeetin.Itfeelsamazingandprettysoonitwillbetoocoldtoswim
in.”
Putting my feet in wouldn’t be so bad. So I take my shoes off and roll my
jeans up enough to dip my feet over the edge and into the water. Hardin was
right,thewateriswarmandclear.Iwigglemytoesandcan’thelpbutsmile.
“It’snice,isn’tit?”heasks,andIcan’thelpbutnod.“Sojustcomein.”
Ishakemyheadandhesplashesmewiththewater.Iscootbackandscowlat
him.
“If you come in the water, I will answer one of your always-intrusive
questions.Anyquestionthatyouwant,butonlyone,”hewarns.
CuriositygetsthebestofmeandItiltmyheadinconcentration.Thereareso
manymysteriesabouthim,andhere’sachancetomaybesolveoneofthem.
“Thisofferexpiresinoneminute,”hesaysandslipsbeneaththewater.Ican
see his long body swimming under the clear water. It does look like fun, and
Hardindrivesahardbargain.Heknowsjusthowtousemycuriosityagainstme.
“Tessa,” he says after his head pops back up above the surface, “stop
overthinkingeverything,andjustjumpin.”
“Idon’thaveanythingtowear.IfIjumpininmyclothes,Iwillhavetowalk
backtothecarandridebacksoaked,”Iwhine.Ialmostwanttogetinthewater.
Okay,IknowIdo.
“Wearmyshirt,”heoffers,whichshocksme,soIwaitasecondforhimtotell
me he was joking, but he doesn’t. “Go on, just wear my shirt. It will be long
enoughforyoutowearinhereandyoucankeepyourbraandpantieson,ifyou
wish,”hesayswithasmile.Itakehisadviceandstopthinking.
“Fine,butturnaroundanddonotlookatmewhileIamchanging—Imean
it!”Itrymybesttobeintimidating,buthejustlaughs.Heturnsaroundandfaces
theoppositedirection,soIliftmyshirtovermyheadandgrabhisasquicklyasI
can.Slippingiton,Icantellhewasright,sinceitreachesdowntothemiddleof
my thighs. I can’t help but admire the way his shirt smells, like faint cologne
mixedwithasmellIcanonlydescribeasHardin.
“HurrythehelluporIwillturnaround,”hesays,andIwishIhadastickto
throwathishead.Iunbuttonmyjeansandstepoutofthem.Foldingmyjeans
andshirtneatly,Iputthemnexttomyshoesonthegrass.Hardinturnsaround
andItugatthebottomofhisblackT-shirt,tryingtopullitasfarasitwillgo.
HiseyeswidenandI watchthemrakedownmybody.Hetakeshislipring
betweenhisteethandInoticehischeeksflush.Hemustbecold,becauseIknow
itcouldn’tpossiblybemeheisreactingto.
“Um...comeinthewater,yeah?”hesays,hisvoiceraspierthanusual.Inod
andwalkslowlytothebank.“Justjumpin!”
“Iam!Iam!”Iyellnervously,andhelaughs.
“Getalittlerunningstart.”
“Okay.”Istepbackalittleandstarttorun.Ifeelfoolish,butIamnotletting
mytendencytooverthinkruinthis.AsIreachmylaststride,Ilookatthewater
andstopwithmyfeetrightontheedge.
“Oh come on! You were off to such a good start!” His head falls back in
laughter,andhelooksadorable.
Hardin,adorable?
“Ican’t!”Iamnotsurewhatisstoppingme;thewaterisdeepenoughtojump
in,butnottoodeep.ThewaterinthespotwhereHardinisstandinggoesonlyto
hischest,whichmeansitwouldreachjustundermychin.
“Areyouafraid?”Histoneiscalmbutserious.
“No...Idon’tknow.Sortof,”Iadmitandhewalksthroughthewatertoward
me.
“SitontheedgeandI’llhelpyouin.”
Isit down and close my legs tightlyso hedoesn’tsee my panties. Noticing
this,hegrinsashereachesme.HishandsgripmythighsandonceagainIamon
fire.Whydoesmybodyhavetorespondtohimthisway?I’mtryingtomakeus
friends,soIneedtoignorethefire.Hemoveshishandstomywaistandasks,
“Ready?”
As soon as I nod yes, he is lifting me and pulling me into the water, water
that’swarmandfeelsamazingagainstmyhotskin.Hardinletsmegotoosoon
and I stand up in the water. We are closer to the bank so it only reaches just
belowmychest.
“Don’tjuststandthere,”hesaysmockingly,andIignorehimbutdowalkout
alittle.TheT-shirtbubblesupfromthewatergoingunderitandIyelpandpull
itdown.Onceit’spositioned,itpromisestostayputforthemostpart.
“Youcouldjusttakeitoff,”hesayswithasmirkandIsplashathim.“Didyou
justsplashme?”HelaughsandInod,splashingathimagain.Heshakeshiswet
headandlungesformeunderthewater.Hislongarmshookaroundmywaist
and pull me under. My hand flies up to plug my nose; I haven’t mastered
swimmingwithoutmynoseplugged.Whenweemerge,Hardiniscrackingup,
andIcan’thelpbutlaughwithhim.Iamactuallyhavingfun,realfun,notthat
averagewatching-a-good-moviefun.
“Ican’tdecidewhichismoreamusing:thefactthatyouareactuallyhavinga
good time or the fact that you have to plug your nose underwater,” he says
throughhislaughter.
I get a jolt of bravery and move toward him, ignoring the way the T-shirt
floatsupagain,andItrytopushhisheadunderwater.Ofcourse,heistoostrong
formeanddoesn’tbudge,soheonlylaughsharder,showingallofhisbeautiful
whiteteeth.Whycan’thebelikethisallthetime?
“Ibelieveyouowemeananswertoaquestion,”Iremindhim.
Helooksofftowardthebank.“Sure,butonlyone.”
I’mnotsurewhichonetoask,Ihavesomany.BeforeIcandecide,though,I
hearmyvoicemaking the decisionforme:“Whodo you lovethemostin the
world?”
WhywouldIaskhimthat?Iwanttoknowmorespecificthings,likewhyishe
ajerk?WhyisheinAmerica?
Helooksatmesuspiciously,asifheisconfusedbymyquestion.
“Myself,”heanswers,andgoesbackunderwaterforafewseconds.
HepopsbackupandIshakemyhead.“Thatcan’tbetrue,”Isayinchallenge.
Iknowheisarrogantbuthehastolovesomeone...anyone?“Whataboutyour
parents?”Iaskandimmediatelyregretit.
HisfacetwistsandhiseyeslosethesoftnessIwasbecomingfondof.“Donot
speak of my parents again, got it?” he snaps, and I want to smack myself for
ruiningthegoodtimewewerehaving.
“I’m sorry, I was just curious. You said you would answer a question,” I
remindhimquietly.Hisfacesoftens alittleandhestepstowardme,thewater
aroundus rippling. “I really amsorry,Hardin, Iwon’tmention themagain,” I
promise.Ireallydon’twanttofightwithhimouthere;hewouldprobablyleave
meoutherealoneifIupsethimtoomuch.
Hetakesmebysurprisewhenhegrabsmywaistandliftsmeintotheair.I
kickmylegsandflailmyarms,screamingathimtoputmedown,butheonly
obligesmebylaughingandtossingmeintothewater.Ilandafewfeetawayand
whenIcomeabovewaterhiseyesarebrightwithglee.
“You’regoingtopayforthat!”Iyell.Hefake-yawnsinresponse,soIswimat
him, and he grabs me again—but this time I wrap my thighs around his waist
withoutreallyrealizingit.Ashockedgaspfallsfromhislips.
“Sorry,”Imutterandunhookmylegs.
But he grabs them and folds them back around his waist. That electricity
between us can be felt again, this time more intensely than ever before. Why
doesthisalwayshappenwithhim?Ishutmymindofffrommythoughtsandput
myarmsaroundhisnecktosteadymyself.
“Whatareyoudoingtome,Tess,”hesayssoftly,andrubshisthumbovermy
bottomlip.
“Idon’tknow...”Ianswertruthfullyintohisthumb,whichstilltracesover
mymouth.
“These lips . . . the things you could do with them,” he says slowly,
seductively.Ifeelthatburndeepinmystomachthatmakesmeputtyinhisarms.
“Doyouwantmetostop?”Helooksintomyeyes;hispupilsaresodilatedthat
thereisonlyaslightringaroundthenowdarkgreenofhiseyes.
Beforemymindcancatchup,Ishakemyheadandpressmybodyagainsthis
underthewater.
“Wecan’tjustbefriends,youknowthat,don’tyou?”Hislipstouchmychin,
makingmetremble.HecontinuesalineofkissesalongmyjawlineandInod.I
knowheisright.Ihavenoideawhatthisisthatweare,butIknowIwillnever
beabletoonlybefriendswithHardin.Ashislipstouchthespotjustbelowmy
ear,Imoan,promptingHardintodoitagain,thistimesuckingtheskin.
“Oh,Hardin,”Imoanandsqueezehimwithmylegs.Ibringmyhandsdown
his back and graze my nails against his skin. I might explode just from him
kissingmyneckalone.
“Iwanttomake you moanmyname, Tessa, overandover again. Pleaselet
me?”Hisvoiceisfullofdesperation.
AndIknowdeepinsidethere’snowayIcansayno.
“Sayit,Tessa.”Hetakesmyearlobebetweenhisteeth.Inodagain,harder.“I
needyoutosayit,baby,outloudsoIknowyoureallywantmeto.”Hishand
travelsdownandunderhisT-shirtthatIamwearing.
“Iwantto...”Irushthewords,andhesmilesagainstmyneck,hismouth
continuing its gentle assault. He doesn’t say anything and instead grabs my
thighs, lifting me higher onto his torso as he begins to walk out of the water.
When he reaches the bank, he lets me go and climbs out. I whine, certainly
inflaminghis ego evenmore—but right nowI don’tcare. All I know is that I
want him, I need him. He reaches out for my hands and pulls me up onto the
bankwithhim.
Unsurewhatto do, Ijuststand on thegrass,feelingHardin’sheavy, soaked
shirtonmyshouldersandthinkinghe’stoofaraway.
Fromwherehestands,hedipsdownalittletomeetmyeyes.“Doyouwantit
tobehere?Ormyroom?”
I shrug nervously. I don’t want to go to his room, because it’s too far—the
drivewillgivemetoomuchtimetooverthinkwhatIamabouttodo.
“Here,”Isayandlookaround.ThereisnooneinsightandIpraythatnoone
willcomehere.
“Eager?” He smiles and I try to roll my eyes, but it probably looks like a
desperateflutter.TheheatinmybodyisslowlyburningoutthelongerHardin’s
touchisnotonme.
“Comehere,”hesaysinalowvoiceandtheheatreturns.
MyfeetpadquietlyacrossthesoftgrassuntilI’monlyinchesfromHardin.
HishandsimmediatelyreachforthehemoftheT-shirtandhepeelsitupward
offmybody.Thewayhelooksatmealonedrivesmecrazy;myhormonesare
outofcontrol.Mypulsespeedsupashelooksmybodyupanddownonemore
timebeforetakingmyhand.
Hespreadshisshirtonthegrasslikeablanketofsorts.“Liedown,”hesays,
guiding me to the ground with him. He lays me on the wet fabric and props
himselfuponhiselbow,lyingonhisside,facingmeonmyback.Noonehas
everseenmethisexposedbefore,andHardinhasseensomanygirls,girlsmuch
betterlookingthanme.Myhandsmoveuptocovermybody,butHardinsitsup
andgrabsbothofmywristsandpushesthemdowntomysides.
“Don’tevercoverup,notforme,”hesaysandlooksintomyeyes.
“It’sjust...”Ibegintoexplain,buthecutsmeoff.
“No,youwillnotcoverup,youhavenothingtobeashamedof,Tess.”Does
hemeanthat?“Imeanit,lookatyou,”hecontinues,seemingtoreadmymind.
“You’vebeenwithsomanygirls,”Iblurtout,andhefrowns.
“Nonelike you.” And I know I could takehis answer many differentways,
butIchoosetoletitgo.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask him, trying to remember the few things I
knowaboutsex.
“Acondom?”Hechuckles.“I’mnotgoingtohavesexwithyou,”hesaysand
Ibegintopanic.Isthisallagametohumiliateme?
“Oh,”isallIsayandbegintopullmyselfup.Buthegrabsmyshouldersand
gently pushes me back down. I’m sure I’m flush red, and I don’t want to be
exposedtohissarcasticeyeslikethis.
“Whereareyougoing—”hestarts,butthenrealizationhitshim.“Oh...No,
Tess, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you have never done
anything...likeatall,soIamnotgoingtohavesexwithyou.”Hestaresatme
foramoment.“Today,”headds,andIfeelalittlebitofthepressureinmychest
dissolve.
“TherearemanyotherthingsIwanttodotoyoufirst.”Heclimbsontopof
me,allofhisweightsupportedonhishands.Heisinapush-upposition.Hiswet
hairdripswaterdropletsontomyfaceandIsquirm.
“Ican’tbelievenoonehasfuckedyoubefore,”hewhispersandheshiftshis
bodytolieonhissideonceagain.Hebringshishandtomyneckandtrailsit
down,touchingmeonlywithhisfingertips,downthevalleyofmybreasts,down
mystomachuntilhestopsjustabovemyunderwear.Wearereallydoingthis,me
and Hardin. What is he going to do? Will it hurt? A hundred thoughts race
throughmymindbut disappear assoonas his handreachesintomy panties. I
hearhimsuckabreaththroughhisteethandhebringshismouthtomine.
Hisfingersmovealittle,anditshocksme.
“Doesthatfeelgood?”heasksintomymouth.
He’s only rubbing me—how does it feel so good? I nod and he slows his
fingersdown.
“Doesitfeelbetterthanwhenyoudoit?”
What?
“Doesit?”heasksagain.
“Wh-what?” I manage, even though I have no control of my body or mind
rightnow.
“Whenyoutouchyourself?Doesitfeellikethis?”
I’mnotsurewhattosay,andwhenIjuststareathim,somethingbehindhis
eyessnapsto.“Wait...you’veneverdonethat,either,haveyou?”Hisvoiceis
fullofsurpriseandsomethingelse...lust?Hegoesbacktokissingmeandhis
fingerskeepmovingupanddown.“You’resoresponsivetome,sowet,”hesays
andImoan.WhyarethesefilthywordssohotwhenHardinsaysthem?Ifeela
gentlepinchanditsendsashockthroughmywholebody.
“What?Was...that?”Ihalfask,halfmoan.Hechucklesanddoesn’tanswer,
butIfeelhimdoitagainandmybackarchesoffthegrass. His mouth travels
downtomyneck,thenmychest.Histonguedipsdownunderthecupofmybra
and his hand massages one of my breasts. I feel a pressure building in my
stomach—anditispurebliss.Ipinchmyeyesclosedandbitedownonmylip;
mybackliftsoffthegrassonceagainandmylegsbegintoshake.
“That’s right,Tessa,come for me,”hesays,which makes mefeellikeI am
spiralingoutofcontrol.“Lookatme,baby,”hepurrs.
Iopenmyeyes.Thesightofhismouthnippingtheskinonmychestsendsme
overtheedgeandmyvisiongoeswhiteforafewseconds.“Hardin,”Isay,and
thenrepeat,andIcantellbythewayhischeeksflushthathelovesit.Slowly,he
pullshishandoutandrestsitonmystomachasItrytoreturnmybreathingto
normal. My body had never felt so energized before, and it’s never felt so
relaxedasthisnow.
“I’ll give you a minute to recover.” He laughs to himself and moves away
fromme.
Ifrown.Iwanthimtostayclose,butI’malsostrangelyunabletospeak.After
thebestfewminutesofmylife,IsitupandlooktowardHardin.Healreadyhas
hisjeansandshoeson.
“We’re leaving already?” The embarrassment is clear in my voice. I had
assumedhewouldwantmetotouchhim,too;evenifIdon’treallyknowwhat
todo,hecouldexplainittome.
“Yeah,youwantedtostaylonger?”
“I just thought . . . I don’t know. I thought maybe you would want
something...”Ihavenoideahowtosaythis.Luckyformehecatcheson.
“Oh,no.Iamokay,fornow,”hesaysandgivesmeasmallsmile.Ishegoing
togobacktobeingmeanagain?Ihopenot,notafterthis.Ihavejustsharedthe
mostintimateexperienceIhaveeverhadwithhim.Iwon’tbeabletostanditif
hetreatsmeterriblyagain.Hedidsay“fornow,”sohewantssomethinglater?I
am already starting to regret this. I put my clothes on over my wet bra and
pantiesandtrytoignorethesoftwetnessbetweenmythighs.Hardinpicksuphis
wetshirtandhandsittome.
Hetakesinmyconfusedexpressionandtellsme“totoweloff.”Hiseyesshift
totheapexofmythighs.
Oh.Iunbuttonmypantsandhedoesn’tbothertoturnaroundasIswipethe
shirt across my sensitive skin there. I don’t miss the way his tongue brushes
across his bottom lip while he watches me. He pulls his cell phone from the
pocket of his jeans and his thumb slides across the screen repeatedly. I finish
doing what he recommended and hand him his shirt back. As I step into my
shoes,theairaroundushaschangedfrompassionatetodistant,andIfindmyself
wishingtobeasfarawayfromhimaspossible.
I wait for him to talk to me as we walk back to the car, but he doesn’tsay
anything.Mymindisalreadycomingupwitheverypossibleworst-casescenario
forwhathappensnext.HeopensmydoorformeandInodtothankhim.
“Issomethingwrong?”heasksmewhilehedrivesbackdownthegravelroad.
“Idon’tknow.Whyareyoubeingsoweirdnow?”Iaskhim,eventhoughI’m
afraidofhisanswerandcan’tlookdirectlyathim.
“I’mnot,youare.”
“No,youhaven’tsaidawordtomesince...youknow.”
“SinceIgaveyouyourfirstorgasm?”
Mymouthdrops and mycheeksflush.Why am Istillsurprisedby his dirty
mouth?
“Um,yeah.Sincethat,youhaven’tsaidanything.Youjustgotdressedandwe
left.”Honestyseemstobethebestoptionrightnow,soIadd,“Itmakesmefeel
likeyou’reusingmeorsomething”
“What? Of course I’m not using you. To use someone I would have to be
gettingsomethingoutofit,”hesays,sooffhandedlythatIcansuddenlyfeelthe
tearscoming.Idomybesttokeepthembackbutoneescapes.
“Areyoucrying?WhatdidIsay?”Hereachesoverandputshishandonmy
thigh.Tomysurpriseitsoothesme.“Ididn’tmeanitlikethat—Iamsorry.I’m
notusedtowhateverissupposedtohappenaftermessingaroundwithsomeone,
plusIwasn’tgoingtojustdropyouoffatyourroomandgoourseparateways.I
thought maybe we could get some dinner or something? I am sure you’re
starving.”Hesqueezesmythighgently.
Ismilebackathim,relievedbyhiswords.Iwipeawaythetearthatescaped
prematurelyandwithitgoesmyworry.
I don’tknow what it is about Hardin that makes me so emotional, in every
waypossible.Theideaofhimusingmemakesmemoreupsetthanitshould.My
feelingsforHardinaresoconfusing.Ihatehimoneminuteandwanttokisshim
thenext.HemakesmefeelthingsIneverknewIcould,andnotjustsexually.He
makesmelaughandcry,yellandscream,butmostofallhemakesmefeelalive.
chaptertwenty-six
Hardin’shandisstillonmythighandIhopeheneverremovesit.Itakeaquick
opportunitytostudysomeofthetattooscoveringhisarms.Theinfinitysymbol
abovehis wristcatches myeye again,and Ican’thelp but wonder if it means
somethingtohim.Itfeelspersonal,inkedthere,justabovethebareskinonhis
hand. I check his other wrist for a matching symbol but there isn’t one. The
infinitysymboliscommonenough,mostlyamongwomen,butthewaythetwo
loopsontheendsareheartsmakesmeevenmorecurious.
“Sowhattypeoffooddoyoulike?”heasks.
What a refreshingly normal question for him to ask me. I pull my matted,
almostdryhairintoabunandthinkforasecondaboutwhatIwanttoeat.“Well,
I like anything, really, as long as I know what it is—and it doesn’t involve
ketchup.”
Helaughs.“Youdon’tlikeketchup?Aren’tallAmericanssupposedtobewild
forthestuff?”heteases.
“Ihavenoidea,butit’sdisgusting.”
Webothlaugh and Ilook over atHardin, who says,“Let’sjust stick witha
plaindinerthen?”
Inodandhereachestoturnthemusicupbutstopsandputshishandbackon
me.“Sowhatdoyouplanondoingaftercollege?”heasks;it’ssomethinghe’s
alreadyaskedmebefore,inhisroom.
“I’mgoingtomovetoSeattleimmediately,andIhopetoworkatapublishing
houseorbeawriter.Iknowit’ssilly,”Isay,suddenlyembarrassedbymyhigh
ambitions.“Butyoualreadyaskedmethatbefore,remember?”
“No,it’snot.IknowsomeoneoveratVancePublishingHouse;it’sabitofa
drive,butmaybeyoushouldapplythereforaninternship.Icouldtalktohim.”
“What?Youwoulddothatforme?”MyvoicegoeshighbecauseI’mpretty
surprised; even if he has been nice for the last hour, this isn’t quite what I
expected.
“Yeah,it’snotabigdeal.”Heseemsalittleembarrassed.Iamsureheisn’t
usedtodoingnicethings.
“Wow,thankyou.Really.Ineedtogetajoborinternshipsoonanyway,and
thatwouldliterallybeadreamcometrue!”Iclapmyhands.
Hechucklesandshakeshishead.“You’rewelcome.”
Wepullintoasmallparkinglotnexttoanoldbrickbuilding.
“Thefoodhereisamazing,”hesaysandclimbsoutofthecar.Walkingaround
tothetrunk,heopensit...andpullsoutanotherplain-blackT-shirt.Hereally
musthaveanendlesssupply.IwasenjoyinghimbeingshirtlesssomuchthatI
forgothewouldeventuallyhavetoputonebackon.
When we get inside we seat ourselves in the fairly deserted place. An old
womanwalkstothetableandgoestohandusourmenus,buthewavesthemoff,
orderingahamburgerandfries,gesturinglikeIshoulddothesame.Itrusthim
onthisoneandorderit—minusketchup,ofcourse.
Whilewewait,ItellHardinaboutgrowingupinRichland,which,beingfrom
England,he’sneverheardof.Heisn’tmissingouton much;thetownissmall
andeveryonedoesthesamethingsandnooneeverleaves.Everyoneexceptme:
Iwillnevermovebackthere.Hedoesn’toffermemuchinformationabouthis
past,butI’mhopefulandpatient.Heseemsverycuriousaboutmylifeasachild
andhe frowns whenI tellhimabout my dad’sdrinking.I had mentionedit to
himbefore,whilewewerefighting,butthistimeIwentintoalittlemoredetail.
During a pause in the conversation, the waitress reappears with our food,
whichlooksdelicious.
“Good,huh?”HardinasksasItakemyfirstbite.Inodandwipemymouth
off.The food isamazing andwe both clearour plates, mebeing morehungry
thanI’veeverbeenbefore.
THEDRIVEBACKTOTHEDORMSisrelaxed.Hislongfingersrubcircles
on my leg, and I’m disappointed to see the WCU sign when we finally hit
campusandthestudentparkinglot.
“Didyouhaveanicetime?”Iaskhim.Ifeelsomuchclosertohimnowthan
Ididafewhoursago.Hecanbereallygoodwhenhetriestobe.
“Yeah,Idid,actually.”Heseemssurprised.“Listen,Iwouldwalkyoutoyour
room,butIdon’twanttoplaytwentyquestionswithSteph...”Hesmilesand
turnshisbodysidewaystofaceme.
“It’sfine.I’lljustseeyoutomorrow,”Itellhim.I’mnotsureifIshouldtryto
kiss him goodbye or not, so I’m relieved when his fingers tug on a few loose
strandsofmyhairandtuckthembehindmyear.Irestmyfaceinhispalmand
heleansoverandtoucheshislipstomine.Itstartsasasimpleandgentlekiss,
butI feelit warmmy entire body and I need more.Hardin grabsmy armand
pullsittogestureformetoclimboverthemiddledivider.Iquicklyobligeand
straddle his lap, my back hitting the steering wheel. I feel the seat recline
slightly,givingusmoreroomasIlifthisshirtalittletoslidemyhandsunderit.
Hisstomachishardandhisskinishot.Itracemyfingersalongtheinkthere.
His tongue massages mine and he wraps his arms around me tightly. The
feelingisalmostpainful,butit’sapainIwillgladlyenduretobethiscloseto
him.HemoansintomymouthasIputmyhandsfartheruphisshirt.IlovethatI
canmakehimmoan,too,thatIhavethiseffectonhim.I’mreallyabouttoget
lostinthesensationagainwhenweareinterruptedbymyphoneringing.
“Anotheralarm?”heteasesasIpullbackandreachintomypurse.
Smiling, I open my mouth to say something smart back at him, but when I
lookat the screenand see it’s Noah,I stop. Lookingat Hardin, I can tellhe’s
figured it out. His expression changes, and fearing that I’m losing him, this
mood,Ihittheignorebuttonandtossmyphonebackontothepassengerseat.I
amnotthinkingaboutNoahrightnow.Ipushhimtothebackcornerofmymind
andlockthatdoor.
IleanbackintocontinuekissingHardin,buthestopsme.
“IthinkIbettergo.”Histoneisclipped,andsendsworrythroughme.WhenI
drawback to look at him, his gazeis distantand iceimmediately replacesthe
fireinmybody.
“Hardin,Iignoredit.Iamgoingtotalktohimaboutallthis.Ijustdon’tknow
howorwhen—butitwillbesoon,though,Ipromise.”Iknewsomewhereinthe
backofmymindthatIwouldhavetobreakupwithNoahthemomentIkissed
Hardin that first time. I can’t date him if I’ve already betrayed him. It would
always hang over my head like a dark cloud of guilt, and neither of us wants
that. The way I feel about Hardin is another reason I can’t be with Noah
anymore.IloveNoah,butifIreallylovedhimthewayhedeservestobeloved,
Iwouldn’tbehavingthese feelingsfor Hardin. Idon’twantto hurt Noah,but
thereisnoturningbacknow.
“Talktohimaboutwhat?”hesnaps.
“Allofthis.”Iwavemyhandsaround.“Us.”
“Us?You’renottryingtotellmeyou’regoingtobreakupwithhim...for
me,areyou?”
Myheadstartstospin.IknowIshouldclimboffhislapbutIamfrozen.
“Youdon’t...wantmeto?”Myvoicecomesoutasawhisper.
“No,whywouldyou?Imean,yeah,ifyouwanttodumphim,goforit,but
don’tdoitonmybehalf.”
“Ijust...Ithought...”Istarttofumblemywords.
“IalreadytoldyouthatIdon’tdate,Theresa,”hesays.
Mybodywantstofreezelikeadeerinheadlights;theonlythingthatmakesit
possibleformetoclimboffhimisthefactthatIrefusetolethimseemecry,
again.
“You’redisgusting,”Isaybitterlyandgrabmystufffromthefloorboardsand
my phone from the seat. Hardin looks like he wants to say something, but he
doesn’t.“Stayawayfrommefromnowon—Imeanit!”Ishout,andhecloses
hiseyes.
IwalkasfastasIcantomybuilding,tomyroom,somehowmanagingtohold
inmytearsuntilIgetinsideandshutthedoor.IamsogratefulSteph’sgoneasI
slidedownthedoorandbreakintosobs.HowcouldIbesostupid?Iknewhow
he was when I agreed to be alone with him, yet I practically jumped at the
opportunity.Justbecausehewasnicetometoday,Igotitintomyheadthatwhat
—thathewouldbemyboyfriend? Ilaugh through mysobs athow stupid and
naïveIam.Ireallycan’tevenbeangrywithHardin.Hetoldmehedoesn’tdate,
buttodaywehadsuchanicetime.Hewasactuallypleasantandplayful,andI
thoughtwewerereallybuildingarelationshipofsomekind.
Butitwasallanact,justsohecouldgetintomypants.AndIlethim.
chaptertwenty-seven
My tears dry, and I am showered and somewhat mentally stable by the time
Stephreturnsfromthemovies.
“So,howwasyour...hangoutwithHardin?”sheasksandgrabsherpajamas
outofherdresser.
“Itwasokay,hewashisnormal...charmingself,”Itellherandmanagea
laugh. I want to tell her about what we did, but I’m too ashamed. I know she
wouldn’tjudgeme,anddespitewantingtobeabletotellsomeone,Ialsoreally
don’twantanyonetoknow.
Stephlooksatmewithconcernevidentinhereyes,andIhavetolookaway.
“Justbecareful,okay;you’retooniceforsomeonelikeHardin.”
I want to hug her and cry into her shoulder but instead ask, “How was the
movie?” to change the subject. She tells me how Tristan kept feeding her
popcornandthatsheisreallystartingtolikehim.Iwanttogag,butIknowIam
justjealousbecauseTristanactuallylikesherinawayHardindoesn’tlikeme.
But I remind myself that I do have someone who loves me and that I need to
starttreatinghimbetterandstayawayfromHardin—forrealthistime.
THENEXTMORNINGI’mdrained.IhavenoenergyandfeellikeIcouldcry
atanymoment.Myeyesareredandpuffyfromcryinglastnight,soIwalkover
toSteph’sdresserandgrabhermakeupbag.Ipulloutbrowneyelineranddrawa
thinlineundermyeyesandonmyeyelid.Itmakesmyeyeslookmuchbetter.I
putalittlepowderundermyeyestogivemyskinalittlecolor.Afewswipesof
mascaraandIlooklikeanewperson.PleasedwiththewayIlook,Iputonmy
tightjeansandatanktop.Stillfeelingnaked,Igrabawhitecardiganoutofmy
closet.ThisisthemosteffortIhavemadeinmyappearanceforaregularschool
daysincepicturedaymysenioryearofhighschool.
Landon texts me that we’ll have to meet in class, so when I stop by the
coffeehouse I grab him a drink, too. I’m still pretty early to class, so I walk
slowerthanusual.
“Hey,Tessa,right?”Ihearaguy’svoicesay.Ilookoverandseeapreppyboy
comingmyway.
“Yeah,Logan,right?”Iaskhim,andhenods.
“Youcomingoveragainthisweekend?”heasks.Hemustbepartofthefrat;
ofcourseheis,he’spreppyandgorgeous.
“Oh,no,notthisweekend.”Ilaughandhejoinsin.
“Bummer,youwerefun.Well,ifyouchangeyourmind,youknowwhereit
is.Igottago,butI’llseeyouaround.”Givingmeafakelittletipofthehat,he
walksaway.
Inclass,Landonisalreadyseatedandthanksmerepeatedlyforbringinghim
coffee.“Youlookdifferenttoday,”hesaysasIsitdown.
“Iputmakeupon,”Ijokeandhesmiles.Hedoesn’taskaboutmynightwith
HardinandIamgrateful.I’mnotsurewhatIwouldsaytohim.
Justas the daygets pleasant,and I beginto stopthinkingabout Hardin,it’s
timeforLiterature.
HARDINSITSINHISNORMALSEATinthefront.He’swearingawhiteT-
shirt for once and it’s thin enough that his tattoos are visible underneath it. It
amazesmehowattractiveIfindhistattoosandpiercingswhenI’venevercared
foreitherbefore.Ilookawayquickly,sitdowninmyusualseatnexttohim,and
pulloutmynotes.I’mnotgivingupmygreatseatbecauseofonerudeboy.Still,
IhopeLandonarrivessoonsoIwon’tfeelsoalonewithHardin.
“Tess?”Hardinwhispersastheclassbeginstofillup.
No.Don’tanswerhim.Ignorehim,Irepeattomyself.
“Tess?”hesaysagain,thistimelouder.
“Donotspeaktome,Hardin,”Isaythroughmyteeth.Iavoidlookingathim.
Iwillnotfallbackintohistrap.
“Ohcomeon,”hesays,andIcantellhethinksthisisallfunny.
MytoneisharshbutIdon’tcare:“Imeanit,Hardin,leavemealone.”
“Fine,haveityourway,”hesaysequallyharshly,andIsigh.
LandonwalksinandIamsograteful.SeeingthetensionbetweenHardinand
me,heasksinhiskindtone,“Youokay?”
“Yeah,I’mfine,”Ilie,andclassbegins.
HARDINANDIcontinueignoringeachotherallweek,andeachdaythatpasses
withouttalkingtohimmakes it alittleeasiertonot think abouthimsomuch.
StephandTristanhavebeenhangingoutallweek,soI’vehadourroommostly
to myself, which has been both good and bad. Good because I get a lot of
studyingdone,butbadbecauseIamleftalonewithmythoughtsaboutHardin.
AllweekIhavebeenwearingalittlebitmoremakeup,butstillmybaggyand
conservativeclothes.ByFridaymorning,IfeellikeIamreallyoverthiswhole
messwithHardin.Thatis,untileveryonekeepstalkingaboutpartyingatthefrat
house.Seriously,thereisapartythereeveryFriday—andusuallySaturday,too
—so why they feel the need to get excited about it every weekend blows my
mind.
AfterbeingaskedbyatleasttenpeopleifIwillbeattheparty,Idecidetodo
theonlythingthatIknowwillkeepmefromgoing.IcallNoah.
“Hey, Tessa!” he chirps into the phone. It has been a few days since we’ve
actuallytalked,andI’vemissedhisvoice.
“Hey,doyouthinkyoucouldcomevisitme?”Iask.
“Sure,yeah.MaybeIcancomenextweekend?”
I groan. “No, I mean like today. Like now, could you leave right now?” I
knowhelikestoplanthingsjustlikeIdo,butIneedhimtocomenow.
“Tessa,Ihavepracticeafterschool.Iamstillatschoolnow,justatlunch,”he
explains.
“Please,Noah,Ireallymissyou.Can’tyoujustleavenowandcomeherefor
theweekend?Please?”IknowI’mbegging,butIdon’tcare.
“Um...yeah,sure,Tessa.I’llcomenow.Iseverythingokay?”
Happiness floods me—I’m really surprised that squeaky-clean Noah is
agreeingtothis,butIamsogladheis.“Yeah,Ijustreallymissyou.Ihaven’t
seenyouinalmosttwoweeks,”Iremindhim.
He laughs. “I miss you, too. I am going to get a slip and leave in a few
minutes,soIwillseeyouinaboutthreehours.Iloveyou,Tessa.”
“Iloveyou,too,”Isayandhangup.Well,thatsettlesthat.AnychancethatI
mighthaveendedupatthatpartyisnowgone.
A NEWFOUNDSENSEOFRELIEFfillsmeas IwalktoLiterature,andinto
thegorgeousoldbrickbuildingtheclassisin.Thatsenseofreliefvanisheswhen
IwalkintotheclassroomandseeHardinhoveringoverLandon’sdesk.
Whatthehell?
IrushoverjustasHardinslamshishandonthedeskandgrowls,“Don’tever
saysomeshitlikethatagain,youprick.”
Landon moves to stand up, but he would be insane to try to fight Hardin.
Landonismuscularandall,buthe’ssokindIcan’timaginehimhittinganyone.
IgrabholdofHardin’sarmandpullhimbackawayfromLandon.Hisother
handrisesintotheairandIflinch,butonceherealizesit’sme,hedropshishand
andcursesunderhisbreath.
“Leavehimalone,Hardin!”IyellandturntoLandon.Helooksjustasmadas
Hardindoesbuthesitsdown.
“You need to mind your own business, Theresa,” Hardin snidely says and
movestohisseat.Hereallyshouldsitinthebacksomewhere.
Sitting between them, I lean over and whisper to Landon, “Are you okay?
Whatwasthatabout?”
HelookstowardHardinandsighs.“Heisjustanasshole.Thatprettymuch
sumsitup,”hesaysloudlyandputsonachippergrin.
Igigglealittleandstraightenup.IcanhearHardin’sraggedbreathingnextto
meandIgetanidea.Achildishidea,butIdoitanyway.
“Ihavesomegoodnews!”ItellLandoninmybestmock-cheeryvoice.
“Really?What’sthat?”
“Noah’scomingtovisittoday,andhe’llbehereallweekend!”Isayandsmile
whileclappingmyhandstogether.IknowIamoverdoingit,butIfeelHardin’s
eyesonmeandIknowheheardme.
“Really?Thatisgreatnews!”Landonsaysearnestly.
ClassbeginsandendswithoutHardinsayingawordtome.Thisishowitwill
befromnowonandit’sfinewithme.IwishLandonaniceweekendandwalk
backtomyroomtotouchupmymakeupandgrabsomethingtoeatbeforeNoah
getshere.Ilaughatmyselfalittlewhiledoingmymakeup.SincewhenamIthe
typeofgirlwhohasto“touchuphermakeup”beforeherboyfriendcomes?I
sense that it’s since that day at the stream with Hardin, an experience that
changed me, though the way he hurt me after changed me even more. The
makeupisonlyaslightchange,butIknowitisthere.
Ieat and straightenmy roomup a little,folding Steph’s clothes andputting
themaway;Ihopeshewon’tmind.Noahfinallytextsthathe’shere,andIjump
offthebedwhere I wasrestingandrush outside togreethim.Helooks better
thaneverinnavybluepants,acreamcardigan,andawhiteshirtunderneath.He
reallydoeswearalotofcardigans,butIlovethem.Hiswelcomingsmilewarms
myheartandhewrapshisarmsaroundmeandtellsmehowniceitistoseeme.
Aswewalkbacktomyroom,helooksatmeforamomentandasks,“Are
youwearingmakeup?”
“Yeah,alittle.It’sjustsomethingIhavebeenexperimentingwith,”Iexplain.
Hesmiles.“Itlooksnice,”hesays,andkissesmyforehead.
INMYROOM,weendupbrowsingthroughtheromanticcomediessectionon
Netflixtopickamovie.StephtextsmeandsayssheiswithTristanandwon’tbe
back tonight, so I turn the lights off and we sit back against my headboard,
Noah’sarmaroundmyshoulderandmyheadonhischest.
Thisisme,Ithink,notsomewildgirlswimminginapunkboy’sT-shirt.
WestartupamoviethatI’veneverheardofbefore,andnotfiveminutesinto
it the door bursts opens. I immediately figure that maybe Steph has forgotten
somethingsheneeds.
But of course it’s Hardin. His eyes go straight to where Noah and I are
cuddledonthebed,illuminatedbytheTVlight.Iflush;hehascomeheretotell
Noah,Iknowit.Panictakesovermybody,andIscootawayfrommyboyfriend,
makingitseemlikeIjustmadeasurprisedlittlejump.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Isnap.“Youcan’tjustbargeinhere!”
Hardinsmiles.“I’mmeetingSteph,”heanswersandsitsdown.“Hey,Noah,
nicetoseeyouagain.”HesmirksandNoahlooksuncomfortable.Heisprobably
wonderingwhyHardinhasakeytotheroomanddoesn’tbothertoknock.
“She’swithTristan,probablyalreadyatyourhouse,”Itellhimslowly,silently
pleading for him to leave. If he tells Noah now, I have no idea how I could
recover.
“Oh?”hesays.Icantellbyhissmirkthathecameherejusttotormentme.He
willprobablystayuntilIcomecleantoNoahmyself.“Areyoutwocomingto
theparty?”
“No . . . we aren’t. We’re trying to watch a movie,” I tell him, and Noah
reachesoverandtakesmyhand.Eveninthedark,IcanseeHardin’seyesfocus
onwhereNoah’shandtouchesmine.
“That’s too bad. Ibetter go. ..” He turns toward thedoor,andI feel some
relief. But then he twists back. “Oh, and, Noah,” he begins, making my heart
drop.“That’sanicecardiganyou’rewearing.”
IletoutabreathIdidn’tknowIwasholding.
“Thanks. It’s from the Gap,” Noah says. He is clueless and unaware that
Hardinismakingfunofhim.
“Icanseethat.Youtwohavefun,”Hardinsaysandleavestheroom.
chaptertwenty-eight
He’snotsobad,Iguess,”Noahsayswhenthedoorcloses.
Ilaughnervously.“What?”Andwhenheraiseshiseyebrowatme,Icontinue:
“Nothing,Iamjustsurprisedtohearyousaythat.”Iliebackontohischest.The
electricitythatfilledtheroommomentsagohasdissolved.
“I’mnotsayingIwouldwanttohangoutwiththeguy, but he was friendly
enough.”
“Hardinisnothingevenclosetofriendly,”Isay,andNoahchucklesandwraps
his arm around me. If he only knew the things that happened between Hardin
andme,thewaywekissed,thewayImoanedhisnamewhilehe—God,Tessa,
juststop.IleanmyheadupandkissNoah’sjaw,makinghimsmile.IwantNoah
tomakemefeelthewayHardindoes.Isitupandturntofacehim.Itakehis
facebetweenmyhandsandpressmylipsagainsthis.Hismouthopensandhe
kissesmeback.Hislipsaresoft...justlikehiskiss.It’snotenough.Ineedthe
fire,Ineedthepassion.Iwrapmyhandsaroundhisneckandpullmyselfonto
hislap.
“Whoa,Tessa,whatareyoudoing?”heasksandtriestopushmeoffgently.
“What?Nothing,Ijust...Iwanttomakeout,Iguess,”Isayandlookdown.
I am usually not embarrassed in front of Noah, but this isn’t something we
usuallytalkabout.
“Okay?”hesays,and I kisshimagain.I feel warmthfromhim,butnot the
fire.Istarttorockmyhips,hopingtolightitsomehow.Hishandsgodownto
mywaistbuthe pushesthemagainstme,stoppingmymovements.Iknow we
agreedtowaituntilmarriage,butwe’rejustkissinghere.Igrabhishandsand
pullthemawayandcontinuetorockagainsthim.NomatterhowmanytimesI
try to kiss him harder, his mouth stays soft and timid. I can feel him getting
turnedon,buthewon’tactonit.
I know I am doing this for all the wrong reasons, but I don’t care at the
moment—IjustneedtoknowthatNoahcandotomewhatHardindoes.Itisn’t
actuallyHardinthatIwant,it’sthefeeling...isn’tit?
IstopkissingNoahandslideoffhislap.
“Thatwasnice,Tessa.”HesmilesandIgivehimoneback.Itwas“nice.”He
issocareful,toocareful,butIlovehim.Ipressplayonthemovieandwithin
minutesIfeelmyselfdriftingoff.
“Ishouldgo,”Hardinsays.Hisgreeneyeslookingdownatme.“Gowhere?”
Idon’twanthimtogo.“Iamgoingtostayatahotelcloseby;I’llcomebackin
the morning,” he says, and after I stare at him a moment, his face fades into
Noah’s.
Ijoltupandwipemyeyes.Noah,itisNoah.ItwasneverHardin.
“You’re obviously really sleepy, and I can’tstay the night here,” Noah says
gentlyandbrushesmycheek.
Iwanthimtostay,butnowI’mafraidofwhatIwillseeorsayinmysleepy
state.Noahclearlydoesn’tthinkit’sdecentforhimtostayinmyroomanyway.
HardinandNoaharepolaropposites.Ineveryway.
“Okay,thankyouagainforcoming,”Imumbleandhekissesmelightlyonthe
cheekbeforeslidingoutfromunderme.
“Iloveyou,”hesays.Inod,burymyheadbackintomypillow,anddescend
intodreamsIdon’tremember.
THENEXTMORNING,IwakeuptoNoahcallingonthephone.Hetellsmehe
isonhisway,soIrolloutofbedandrushtotheshowers,wonderingwhatNoah
and I should do today. There isn’t much to do around here unless we go into
town; maybe I should text Landon and ask what there is to do around here
besidespartyatafrathouse.Heseemstobemyonlyfriendwhowouldknow.
Havingdecidedtowearmygraypleatedskirtandaplainblueshirt,Iignore
Hardin’svoiceinthebackofmyheadtellingmethatit’sugly,anddressinthe
stall.
NoahisinthehallwaitingbymydoorasIreturnwiththetowelstillinmy
hair.“Youlooklovely,”hesayswithasmile,andputshisarmovermyshoulder
asIopenthedoor.
“I just need to do my hair and put a little makeup on,” I tell him and grab
Steph’smakeupbag,whichI’mgladshedidn’ttakewithher.Iwillneedtoget
someofmyownnowthatIknowIlikethewayitlooks.
NoahsitspatientlyonmybedasIdrymyhairandcurltheends.Istopand
givehimakissonthecheekbeforeIapplymymakeup.“Whatdoyouwantto
dotoday?”Ifinishwithmascaraandfluffmyhair.
“Collegereallysuitsyou,Tessa.Youhaveneverlookedbetter,”Noahsays.“I
don’tknow,maybewecangotoaparkorsomething,thendinner?”
Ilookattheclock.Howisitalready1p.m.?ItextStephandtellherIwillbe
outmost of the day and she respondssaying she will be gone until tomorrow.
ShebasicallylivesatHardin’sfraternityhouseontheweekends.
NoahopensthepassengerdoorofhisToyota.Hisparentsmadesurehehad
thesafestcar,thenewestmodel.Theinteriorisspotless,nostacksofbooks,no
dirtyclothing.Wedrivearoundtofindapark,whichonlytakesalittlebit.It’sa
small,quietspacewithhalf-green,half-yellowinggrassandafewtrees.
Aswepullintoaspot,Noahasks,“Hey,whenareyougoingtostartlooking
foracar?”
“I think this week, actually. I am going to apply for jobs this week, too.” I
don’tmentiontheinternshipatVancePublishingthatHardindangledinfrontof
me.Idon’tknowifIcanstillgetit,orhowI’dtellNoahifIdid.
“Thatisgreatnews.Letmeknowifyouneedanyhelpwitheitherofthose,”
hesays.
Wewalkaroundtheparkonceandthensitatapicnictable.Noahtalksmost
ofthetimeandInodalong.Ifindmyselfzoninginandoutoftheconversation
buthedoesn’tseemtonotice.Weendupwalkingalittle more and cometoa
smallstream.IsnortattheironyandNoahlooksatmequizzically.
“Doyouwanttoswim?”Iask,notquitesurewhyIpushthismomentfurther.
“In there? No way,” he says, laughing, and as I deflate a little, I mentally
smackmyself.IneedtostopcomparingNoahtoHardin.
“Iwasjustjoking,”Ilie,anddraghimalongdownthetrail.
ITISSEVENbeforeweleavethepark,sowedecidetoorderpizzawhenweget
backtomyroomandwatchaclassic:MegRyanfallinginlovewithTomHanks
througharadioshow.IamstarvingbythetimethepizzacomessoIeatalmost
halfofitmyself.Inmydefense,Ihaven’teatenallday.
HalfwaythroughthemoviemyphoneringsandNoahreachesovertograbit
for me. “Who’s Landon?” he asks. There is no suspicion in his voice, only
curiosity.Hehasneverbeenthejealoustype;heneverneededtobe.
Untilnow,mysubconsciousremindsme.
“He’safriendfromschool,”Isayandanswer.WhywouldLandonbecalling
mesolate?He’snevercalledmeforanythingotherthantocomparenotes.
“Tessa?”Landonsaysloudly.
“Yeah,iseverythingokay?”
“Um,well,no,actually.IknowNoahistherebut...”Hehesitates.
“What’swrong,Landon?”Myheartstartstorace.“Areyouokay?”
“Yeah,it’snotme.It’sHardin.”
Panicovertakesme.“H-Hardin?”Istutter.
“Yeah,ifIgiveyouanaddresscanyoucomehere,please?”Ihearsomething
crashinthebackground.IjumpoffmybedandIhavemyshoesonbeforemy
mindcatchesup.Noahstandsup,too,almostasifinsympathy.
“Landon,isHardintryingtohurtyou?”Mymindcan’tmake sense ofwhat
elsecouldbegoingon.
“No,no,”hesays.
“Textmetheaddress,”Itellhimandthenhearanothercrash.
IturntoNoah.“Noah,Ineedyourcar.”
Hisheadturnssideways.“Whatisgoingon?”
“Idon’tknow...it’sHardin.Givemeyourkeys,”Idemand.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls them out, but says insistently, “I’m
comingwithyou.”
ButIsnatchthekeysfromhishandsandshakemyhead.“No,you...Ineed
togoalone.”
Mywordshurthim.Helookshurt.AndIknowit’swrongtoleavehimhere,
butrightnowtheonlythingIcanthinkaboutisgettingtoHardin.
chaptertwenty-nine
Landon’s text reads 2875 Cornell Rd, which I copy and paste into my maps
program,whichsaysthedriveisfifteenminutes.Whatcouldbegoingonthere
thatLandoncouldpossiblyneedme?
I’m just as confused when I arrive at the address as I was when I left my
room.Noahhascalledtwice,bothofwhichI’veignored;Ineedthenavigation
tostayonthescreenand,honestly,theconfusedlookonhisfacewhenIlefthim
thereishauntingme.
Thehouseson the streetarealllargeandlooklikemansions.This house in
particular is at least three times larger than my mother’s. It’s an old-fashioned
brickhousewithaslopedyardthatmakesitappeartobesittingonahill.Even
underthestreetlights,it’sbeautiful.I’mguessingthismustbeHardin’sfather’s
house, since this doesn’t belong to a college kid and it’s the only reason why
Landon would be here as well. I take a deep breath, get out, and walk up the
stepsfromthesidewalk.Iknockhardonthedarkmahoganydoor,anditopens
withinseconds.
“Tessa,thankyouforcoming.I’msorry,Iknowyouhavecompany.IsNoah
withyou?”Landonasksandlooksouttothecarwhilegesturingmeinside.
“No,he’sbackatthedorms.What’sgoingon?Where’sHardin?”
“Thebackyard.Heisoutofcontrol.”Hesighs.
“And I am here because . . .?” I ask as nicely as I can. What does Hardin
beingoutofcontrolhavetodowithme?
“Idon’tknow,Iknowyouhatehim,butyoudotalktohim.He’sreallydrunk,
completely belligerent. He showed up here and opened a bottle of his father’s
scotch.Hedrankoverhalfthebottle!Andthenhestartedbreakingthings:allmy
mother’sdishes,aglasscabinet,basicallyeverythinghecouldgethishandson.”
“What?Why?”Hardintoldmehedoesn’tdrink—wasthatalie,too?
“Hisdadjusttoldhimthatheandmymotheraregettingmarried...”
“Okay?”I’mstillconfused.“SoHardindoesn’twantthemtogetmarried?”I
askasLandonleadsmethroughthelargekitchen,whereIgaspasItakeinthe
hugemessHardinhasmade.Brokendishesarescatteredacrossthefloor,anda
largewoodencabinethasbeenknockedover,itsglasspanelsshattered.
“No, but it’s a long story. Right after his dad called and told him, they left
town for the weekend to celebrate. I think that’s why Hardin came here, to
confronthisdad.Henevercomeshere,”heexplainsandopensthebackdoor.
Iseeashadowsittingatasmalltableonthepatio.Hardin.
“Idon’tknowwhatyouthinkIcando,butI’lltry.”
Landon nods. He leans down and puts his hand on my shoulder. “He was
callingoutforyou,”hetellsmequietly,andmyheartstops.
IwalktowardHardinandhelooksupatme.Hiseyesarebloodshot,andhis
hairishiddenunderagraybeanie.Hiseyesgowide,thendarken,andIwantto
stepback.Helooksalmostscaryunderthedimpatiolight.
“Howdidyougethere—”Hardinsaysloudlyandstandsup.
“Landon...he...”Ianswer,thenwishIhadn’t.
“You fucking called her?” he yells toward Landon, who for his part walks
backinside.
“Youleavehimalone,Hardin—heisworriedaboutyou,”Iscold.
Hesitsbackdown,gesturingformetotakeaseat,too.Isitacrossfromhim
andwatchashegrabsthemostlyemptybottleofdarkliquorandputsittohis
mouth.IwatchhisAdam’sapplemoveashegulpsitdown.Whenhe’sfinished,
heslamsthebottledownontotheglassofthepatiotableanditmakesmejump,
thinkingeitherthebottleorthetableorbothmightbreak.
“Aww,aren’tyoutwosomething.Youbotharesopredictable.PoorHardinis
upset, so you gang up on me and try to make me feel bad for breaking some
shittychina,”hedrawlswithasicksmirk.
“Ithoughtyoudon’tdrink?”Iaskhimandcrossmyarms.
“Idon’t.Untilnow,Iguess.Don’ttrytopatronizeme;you’renobetterthan
me.”Hepointsafingeratme,thengrabsthebottleforanotherswig.
Andit’sscary,butIcan’tdenythatbeingnearhim,eveninhisdrunkenstate,
breatheslifeintome.IhavemissedthefeelingHardingivesme.
“IneversaidIwasbetterthanyou.Ijustwanttoknowwhatmadeyoudrink
now?”
“What does it matter to you? Where’s your boyfriend?” His eyes blaze into
mineandtheemotionbehindthemissostrongthatIamforcedtolookaway.If
onlyIknewwhatthatemotionwas;hatred,Isuppose.
“He’sbackinmyroom.Ijustwanttohelpyou,Hardin.”Ileanalittleover
thetabletoreachforhishand,butherecoilsfrommytouch.
“Helpme?”hecackles.Iwanttoaskhimwhyhewascallingoutformeifhe
isgoingtocontinuetobehateful,butIdon’twanttothrowLandonunderthe
busagain.“Ifyouwanttohelpme,thenleave.”
“Whywon’tyoujusttellmewhat’sgoingon?”Ilookdownatmyhandsand
pickatmyfingernails.
He sighs and pulls his beanie off and runs his hand through his hair before
pullingit back on. “My fatherdecided to tell me justnow that he is marrying
Karen—andthewedding’snext month. Heshouldhave told melongago, and
notoverthephone.I’msureperfectlittleLandon’sknownforawhile.”
Oh.Ihadn’tactuallyexpectedhimtotellme,soIamnotsurewhattosay.“I
amsurehehadhisreasonsnottotellyou.”
“Youdon’tknowhim;hedoesn’tgiveashitaboutme.Youknowhowmany
timesIhavetalkedtohiminthelastyear?Maybeten!Allhecaresaboutishis
bighouse,hisnewsoon-to-bewife,andhisnew,perfectson.”Hardinslursand
takesanotherdrink.Istayquietwhilehecontinues.“Youshouldseethedump
that my mum lives in in England. She says she likes it there, but I know she
doesn’t. It’s smaller than my dad’s bedroom here! My mum practically forced
me to come here for university, to be closer to him—and we see how that
workedout!”
WiththislittlebitofinformationhehasgivenmeIfeellikeIcanunderstand
himsomuchbetter.Hardin’shurt;that’swhyheisthewayheis.
“Howoldwereyouwhenheleft?”Iaskhim.
Heeyesmewarilybutanswers.“Ten.Butevenbeforeheleft,hewasnever
around.Hewasatadifferentbareverynight.Nowhe’sMr.Perfectandhehas
allthisshit,”Hardinsaysandwaveshishandtowardthehouse.
Hardin’sdadleftwhenhewasten,justlikemine,andtheywerebothdrunks.
We have more in common than I thought. This wounded and drunk Hardin
seems so much younger, so much more fragile than the powerful person I’ve
knownsofar.
“I’msorrythatheleftyouguys,but—”
“No,Idon’tneedyourpity,”heinterrupts.
“It’snotpity.I’mjusttryingto—”
“Tryingtowhat?”
“Helpyou.Behereforyou,”Isaysoftly.
Andhesmiles.It’sabeautifullyhauntingsmile,andmakesmehopefulthatI
canhelphimthroughthis,butIknowwhatisreallyabouttohappen.
“Youaresopathetic.Don’tyouseethatIdon’twantyouhere?Idon’twant
youto behere forme. Just because I messed around with you doesn’tmean I
wantanythingtodowithyou.Yethereyouare,leavingyourniceboyfriend—
who can actually stand to be around you—to come here and try to ‘help’ me.
That, Theresa, is the definition of pathetic,” he says, punctuating it with air
quotes.
Hisvoiceisfullofvenom,justlikeIknewitwouldbe,butIignorethepainin
mychest and lookat him. “You don’tmean that.” I thinkback to a week ago
when he was laughing and tossing me into the water. I can’t decide if he is a
greatactor,oragreatliar.
“I do, though; go home,” he tells me and raises the bottle to take another
drink.Reachingacrossthetable,Isnatchitfromhimandtossitintotheyard.
“Whatthehell?”heyells,butIignorehimandwalktowardthebackdoor.
Ihearhimscrambleandthenhestepsinfrontofme.“Whereareyougoing?”
Hisfaceisinchesfrommine.
“IamgoingtohelpLandoncleanupthemessyoumadeandthenIamgoing
home.”MyvoicecomesoutmuchcalmerthanIfeel.
“Whywouldyouhelphim?”Thedisgustinhisvoiceisclear.
“Because he, unlike you, deserves for someone to help him,” I say and his
facefalls.IshouldbesayingmuchmoretoHardin.Ishouldscreamathimfor
thehurtfulthingshe justsaidtome,butIknowthatis whathewants.Thisis
whathedoes:hehurtseveryonenearhimandhegetsakickoutofthechaosthat
comesoutofthat.
Hardinquietlystepsoutofmyway.
WhenIgoinside,IfindLandoncrouchedover,pullingthecabinetupright.
“Where’s the broom?” I ask when he’s done. Landon looks at me with a
thankfulsmile.
“Right over there,” he says, motioning to the broom. “Thank you for
everything.”
I nod and begin sweeping up the smashed dishes.There are just so many.I
feelterrible that when Landon’smom comes back she’ll findall of her dishes
gone.Ihopetheydidn’thaveanysentimentalvaluetoher.
“Ouch!”Igaspwhenasmallpieceofglassdigsintomyfinger.Dropletsof
bloodfallontothewoodenfloor,andIjumpuptoreachthesink.
“Areyouokay?”Landonasks,worried.
“Yeah, it’s just a little piece, I don’t know why there is so much blood.” It
really doesn’t hurt that bad. I close my eyes as the cold water runs over my
finger,andafteracoupleofminutesIhearthebackdooropen.Isnapmyeyes
openandturntoseeHardinstandinginthedoorway.
“Tessa,canItalktoyou,please?”heasks.
I know I should say no, but something about the redness around his eyes
makesmenod.Hiseyeslooktomyhandandthenthebloodonthefloor.
Hewalksovertomequickly.“Areyouokay?Whathappened?”
“It’snothing,justalittleglass,”Itellhim.
Hereachesformyhandandpullsitoutfromunderthewater.Andwhenhe
touchesmyarm,Ifeeltheelectricity.Lookingatmyfinger,hefrowns,thenlets
itgo,walkingovertoLandon.Hewasjustcallingmepathetic,nowheisacting
allconcernedaboutmyhealth?Heisgoingtomakemecrazy,literallycrazy,as
inlockedinapaddedroom.
“WherearetheBand-Aids?”hepracticallydemandsofLandon,andLandon
tellshimthey’reinthebathroom.WithinaminuteHardinisbackandhegrabs
my hand again. First he squeezes some antibacterial gel onto my cut, then he
wrapsaBand-Aidaroundmyfingergently.Istayquiet,asconfusedbyHardin’s
actionsasLandonlooks.
“Can I talk to you, please?” he asks again, and thought I know I shouldn’t,
sincewhendoIdowhatIshouldwhenHardinisinvolved?
Inod,andhewrapshisfingersaroundmywristandleadsmeoutside.
chapterthirty
Backatthepatiotable,Hardinletsgoofmywristandpullsoutthechairforme.
Feelinglikemyskinisliterallyburningfromhistouch,Irubmyfingersoverit
ashegrabstheotherchairanddragsitacrosstheconcretetositdirectlyinfront
ofme.Whenhesits,he’ssoclosethathiskneesarealmosttouchingmine.
“What could you possibly want to talk about, Hardin?” I ask him in the
harshesttoneIcanmuster.
Hetakesadeepbreathandpullshisbeanieoffagainandplacesitonthetable.
Iwatchashislongfingersrunthroughhisthickhairandhelooksintomyeyes.
“Iamsorry,”hesayswithanintensitythatmakesmelookawayandfocuson
thelargetreeinthebackyard.Heleansinclose.“Didyouhearme?”heasks.
“Yeah,Iheardyou,”Isnapandstarebackathim.HeiscrazierthanIthought
ifhethinkshecanjustsaysorryandIwillforgetthehorriblethingshecontinues
todotomeonanalmostdailybasis.
“You’resodamneddifficulttodealwith,”hesaysandsitsbackonhischair.
ThebottleItossedintotheyardisnowinhishand,andhetakesanotherdrink
fromit.Howishenotpassedoutyet?
“Iam difficult?You haveto bekidding me!What doyou expectme todo,
Hardin?Youarecrueltome—socruel,”Isayandpullmybottomlipbetween
myteeth.Iwillnotcryinfrontofhimagain.Noahhasnevermademecry;we
havebeeninafewfightsovertheyears,butIhaveneverbeenupsetenoughto
cry.
Hisvoiceislowandalmostfeelslikeit’spartofthenightair“Idon’tmeanto
be.”
“Yes, you do, and you know it. You do it purposefully. I have never been
treatedthispoorlybyanyoneinmyentirelife.”Ibitemylipharder.Icanfeel
theknotinmythroat.IfIcry,hewins.That’swhathewants.
“Thenwhydoyoukeepcomingaround?Whynotjustgiveup?”
“IfI...Idon’tknow.ButIcanassureyouthataftertonightIamnotgoingto.
IamgoingtodropLiteratureandjusttakeitnextsemester.”Ihadn’tplannedon
doingthatuntilnow,butitisexactlywhatIshoulddo.
“Don’t,pleasedon’tdothat.”
“Whywouldyoucare?Youdon’twanttobeforcedtobearoundsomeoneas
patheticasme,right?”Mybloodisboiling.IfIknewwhattosaytohurthimas
badashealwayshurtsme,Iwould.
“Ididn’tmeanthat...I’mthepatheticone.”
Ilookstraightathim.“Well,Iwon’targuewiththat.”
Hetakesanotherdrink,andwhenIreachforthebottle,hepullsitaway.
“Soyou’retheonlyonewhocangetdrunk?”Iask,andawrysmileappears
onhisface.Thepatiolightshinesoffhiseyebrowringashehandsmethebottle.
“Ithoughtyouweregoingtotossitagain.”
Ishould,butinsteadIputthebottletomylips.Theliquoriswarmandtastes
likeburntlicoricedippedinrubbingalcohol.IgagandHardinchuckles.
“Howoftendoyoudrink?Youimpliedbeforeitwasnever,”Isay.Ineedto
getbacktobeingangrywithhimafterheanswers.
“Beforetonightithasbeenaboutsixmonths.”Hiseyesfalltothefloorlikehe
isashamed.
“Well, you shouldn’t drink at all. It makes you an even worse person than
usual.”
Stillstaringattheground,hisfaceisserious.“YouthinkIamabadperson?”
What,ishethatdrunkthathewouldeverconsiderhimselfgood?
“Yes.”
“I’m not. Well, maybe I am. I want you to . . .” he starts, but then stops,
straightensup,andleansbackonthechair.
“Youwantmetowhat?”Ihavetoknowwhathewasgoingtosay.Ihandhim
backthebottle,buthesetsitonthetable.Idon’twanttodrink;theonewasbad
enough,giventheterriblejudgmentIhavearoundHardinasitis.
“Nothing,”hesays,lying.
WhyamIevenhere?Noahisbackinmyroomwaitingforme,andhereIam
wastingevenmoretimeon Hardin. “Ishouldgo.”I stand upandheadfor the
backdoor.
“Don’t go,” his voice says softly. And my feet stop in their tracks at the
pleadingtone.IturnaroundtofindHardinlessthanafootfromme.
“Whynot?Doyouhavemoreinsultstothrowinmyface?”Ishoutandturn
away.Hishandwrapsaroundmyarmandjerksmeback.
“Don’tturnyourbackonme!”heshoutsevenlouderthanIdid.
“Ishouldhaveturnedmybackonyoualongtimeago!”Iscreamandpush
againsthischest.“Idon’tknowwhyIamevenhere!Icameallthewayherethe
secondLandoncalledme!Ileftmyboyfriend—who,likeyousaid,istheonly
one who can stand to be around me—to come here for you! You know what?
You’reright,Hardin,Iampathetic.Iampatheticforcominghere,Iampathetic
foreventrying—”
ButI’mcutoffbyhislipsagainstmine.Ipushathischesttostophim,buthe
doesn’tbudge.Everypartofmewantstokisshimback,butIstopmyself.Ifeel
his tongue trying to pry its way in between my lips and his strong arms wrap
aroundme,pullingmeclosertohimdespitemyattemptstopushaway.It’sno
use;heisstrongerthanme.
“Kissme,Tessa,”hesaysagainstmylips.
Ishakemyheadandhegruntsinfrustration.“Please,justkissme.Ineedyou”
Hiswordsunravelme.Thisindecent,drunken,terriblemanjustsaidheneeds
me,andsomehowitsoundslikepoetrytomyears.Hardinislikeadrug;each
time I take the tiniest bit of him, I crave more and more. He consumes my
thoughtsandinvadesmydreams.
The second my lips part, his mouth is on mine again, but this time I don’t
resist. I can’t. I know this isn’t the answer to my problems and that I’m just
diggingmyselfdeeper,butthatdoesn’tmatterrightnow.Allthatmattersishis
words,andhowhesaidthem:Ineedyou.
CouldHardin possibly need me theway I desperately need him?I doubt it,
butforrightnowIwanttopretendthathedoes.Hebringsoneofhishandsto
cup my cheek and he runs his tongue along my bottom lip. I shudder and he
smiles,hislipringticklingthecornerofmymouth.Iheararustlingnoiseand
pull away. He lets me stop the kiss, but he keeps his arms wrapped tightly
aroundme,hisbodypressedagainstmine.Ilooktowardthebackdoorandpray
thatLandondidn’twitnessmyterriblelapseofjudgment.Idon’tseehim,thank
God.
“Hardin,Ireallyhavetogo.Wecan’tkeepdoingthis;it’snotgoodforeither
ofus,”Itellhimandlookdown.
“Yes,wecan,”hesaysandliftsmychinup,forcingmetolookintohisgreen
eyes.
“No, we can’t. You hate me, and I don’t want to be your punching bag
anymore.Youconfuse me. Oneminuteyou’re telling mehowmuch you can’t
stand me or humiliating me after my most intimate experience.” He opens his
mouth to interrupt me and I put my finger against his pink lips and continue.
“Thenthe nextminute you’re kissing me and telling me you needme. Idon’t
likewhoIamwhenI’mwithyou,andIhatethewayIfeelafteryousayterrible
thingstome.”
“Whoareyouwhenyouarewithme?”Hisgreeneyesstudymyface,waiting
formyreply.
“Someone I don’t want to be, someone who cheats on their boyfriend and
criesconstantly,”Iexplain.
“Youknow who I think youare whenyou’re with me?” He runs his thumb
alongmyjawline,andItrytostayfocused.
“Who?”
“Yourself.Ithinkthisistherealyouandthatyou’rejusttoobusycaringwhat
everyoneelsethinksaboutyoutorealizeit.”
Idon’tknowwhatIthinkaboutthis,buthesoundssohonest,sosureofhis
answerthatItakeasecondtoreallythinkabouthiswords.“AndIknowwhatI
didtoyouafterIfingeredyou.”Henoticesmyscowlandcontinues.“Sorry...
afterourexperience,Iknowitwaswrong.Ifeltterribleafteryougotoutofmy
car.”
“Idoubtthat,”Isnap,rememberinghowmuchIcriedthatnight.
“It’strue,Iswearit.IknowyouthinkI’mabadperson...butyoumakeme
—”Hedrawsupshort.“Nevermind.”
Whydoeshealwaysstop?
“Finish that sentence, Hardin, or I am leaving right now,” I tell him. And
meanit.
The way his eyes seem to burn when he looks at me, the way his lips part
slowly,asifeverywordwillholdsomething,alieoratruth,itmakesmewait
forhisresponse.“You...youmakemewanttobegood,foryou...Iwantto
begoodforyou,Tess.”
chapterthirty-one
Itrytotakeastepbackfromhim,buthisgripistoostrong.Imusthaveheard
himwrong.Myemotionsaregettingthebestofme,soIturnandlookoutinto
the darkness of the backyard, trying to make sense of the meaning behind his
words.Hardinwantstobebetterforme?Inwhatway?Hecouldn’tmeanit...
Couldhe?
Ilookbackathim,myeyeshazy.“What?”
Helooksunaffected...truthful?Hopeful?What?“Youheardme.”
“No.I’msureImisunderstood.”
“No,youdidn’t.You makemefeel. . .somethingunfamiliar.Idon’tknow
howtohandlethesetypesoffeelings,Tessa,soIdotheonlythingIknowhow
todo.”Hepausesandblowsoutasmallbreath.“Whichisbeanasshole.”
OnceagainIfindmyselfinatrance.
“Thiscouldneverwork,Hardin,wearesodifferent.Firstoff,youdon’tdate,
remember?”
“We aren’t that different—we like the same things; we both love books for
example,”hesays,tracesofliquorinhisbreath.
Evenstandinghere,Ican’twrapmymindaroundtheideaofHardintryingto
convince me that we could be good together. “You don’t date,” I remind him
again.
“Iknow,butwecould...befriends?”
There it is. We are back to square one. “I thought you said we couldn’t be
friends?AndIwon’tbefriendswithyou—Iknowwhatyoumeanbythat.You
wantallthebenefitsofbeingaboyfriendwithoutactuallyhavingtocommit.”
Hisbodyswaysandheleansonthetableandloosenshisgriponme.“Whyis
thatsobad?Whydoyouneedthelabel?”I’mthankfulforthespacebetweenus
andthefresh,scotch-freeair.
“Because,Hardin,eventhoughI’venotreallyhadalotofrestraintlately,Ido
haveself-respect.Iwillnotbeyourplaything,especiallywhenitinvolvesbeing
treatedlikedirt.”Iraisemyhandsintotheair.“Andbesides,I’malreadytaken,
Hardin.”
Hardin’sevildimplescomeoutwithhissmirk.“Andyet,lookwhereyouare
rightnow.”
Reflexively,Iblurtout,“Ilovehimandhelovesme,”andthenwatchHardin’s
expressionchange.Heletsgoofmeandstumblesoverthechair.
“Don’tsaythattome.”Heslurshiswords,whicharecomingoutfasterthan
before.Ialmostforgothowdrunkhewas.
“You’reonlysayingthisbecauseyou’redrunk;tomorrowyouwillgobackto
hatingme.”
“Idon’thateyou.”Hegoesintothelawnabit.
I wish he didn’thave this effect on me. I wish I could just walk away. But
insteadIstickaroundandhearhimsay,“Ifyoucanlookmeintheeyesandtell
me that you want me to leave you alone and never speak to you again, I will
listen.Iswear,fromthispointonIwillnevercomenearyouagain.Justsaythe
words.”
Iopenmymouthtotellhimjustthat.Totellhimtostayfarawayfromme,to
tellhimIneverwanttolayeyesonhimagain.
Heturnsandcomescloser.“Tellme,Tessa,tellmethatyouneverwanttosee
meagain.”Thenhe’stouchingme.Herunshishandsalongmyarmsandgoose
bumpsimmediatelyraiseonmyskin.“Tellmeyouneverwanttofeelmytouch
again,”hewhispers,bringinghishandtomyneck.Hisindexfingertracesalong
mycollarboneandbackupanddownmyneck.Ihearmybreathingquickenas
hebringshislipslessthananinchfrommine.“Thatyouneverwantmetokiss
youagain,”hesays,andIcansmellthescotchandfeeltheheatoffhisbreath.
“Tellme,Theresa,”hecoosandIwhimper.
“Hardin,”Iwhisper.
“You can’t resist me, Tessa, just as I can’t resist you.” His lips are close to
mine;theyarealmosttouching.
“Staywithmetonight?”heasks,andmakesmewanttodowhateverhesays.
A movement by the door catches my eye and I jerk away from Hardin.
Looking up, I see Landon’s face twisted with confusion before he turns away
anddisappearsfromthedoorway.
Iamsnappedbackintoreality.
“Ihavetogo,”IsayandHardincursesunderhisbreath.
“Please, please stay. Just stay with me tonight, and if you decide in the
morningtotellmeyoudon’twanttoseemeanymore...justpleasestay.Iam
beggingyouandIdon’tbeg,Theresa.”
IfindmyselfnoddingbeforeIcanstopmyself.“AndwhatwillItellNoah?
He is waiting for me and I have his car.” I can’t believe I am actually
consideringdoingthis.
“Justtellhimthatyouhavetostaybecause...Idon’tknow.Don’ttellhim
anything.What’stheworstthinghecando?”
Ishudder.Hewilltellmymother.Withoutadoubt.IrritationtowardNoahfills
me; I should not have to worry about my boyfriend telling my mother on me,
evenifIdosomethingwrong.
“Heisprobablyasleepanyway,”Hardinsays.
“No,hehasnowaytogetbacktohishotel.”
“Hotel?Wait—hedoesn’tstaywithyou?”
“No,hehasahotelroomcloseby.”
“Andyoustaytherewithhim?”
“No,hestaysthere,”Isaysheepishly,“andIstayinmyroom.”
“Ishestraight?”Hardinasks,hisbloodshoteyesdancinginamusement.
Myeyesgowide.“Ofcourseheis!”
“Sorry,butsomethingisnotrightthere.Ifyouweremine,Iwouldn’tbeable
tostayawayfromyou.IwouldfuckyoueverychanceIhad.”
Mymouthfallsopen.Hardin’sdirtywordshavethestrangesteffectonme.I
flushandlookaway.
“Let’s go inside,” I hear him say. “The trees are swaying back and forth. I
thinkthatismycueI’vehadwaytoomuchtodrink.”
“You’restayinghere?”Ihadassumedhewouldgobacktohisfrathouse.
“Yeah,andsoareyou.Let’sgo.”Hegrabsmyhandandwewalktowardthe
backdoor.
IwillhavetofindLandonandtrytoexplainwhathesawthroughthedoor.I
don’tknowwhat’shappeningmyself,soI’mnotsurehowIwillexplainit,butI
have to make him understand somehow. As we walk through the kitchen, I
noticethemessisalmostcompletelycleanedup.
“Youneedtocleantherestofthistomorrow,”Itellhimandhenods.
“Iwill,”hepromises.YetanotherpromiseIhopehekeeps.
Myhandinhis,heleadsmeupthegrandstaircase.Ipraythatwedon’trun
intoLandoninthehallwayandIamrelievedwhenwedon’t.
Hardinopensthedoortoapitch-blackroomandgentlypullsmeinside.
chapterthirty-two
Myeyesadjusttothedarkness,buttheonlylightisasmallstreakofmoonlight
comingthroughthebaywindow.“Hardin?”Iwhisper.
IhearhimcurseashetripsoversomethingandItrynottolaugh.
“I’mrighthere,”he saysandclicksonadesklamp.Ilookaround thelarge
room, which reminds me of a hotel. A four-poster bed with dark linens is
centered against the far wall and looks like a king-size with at least twenty
pillowsontop.Thedeskisoversizeandmadeofcherrywood,andthecomputer
sittingonithasabiggermonitorthanthetelevisioninmydormroom.Thebay
window has a built-in bench while the other windows are masked with thick
navycurtainsthatdon’tallowthemoontoshinethrough.
“Thisismy...room,”hesaysandrubsthebackofhisneckwithhishand.
Helooksalmostembarrassed.
“Youhavearoomhere?”Iask,butofcoursehedoes.Itishisfather’shouse
and Landon obviously lives here. Landon had mentioned that Hardin never
comes here, so maybe that is why it looks so museum-like, untouched and
impersonal.
“Yeah...Ihaven’teveractuallysleptinit...untiltonight.”Hesitsonthe
chestplacedatthefootofthebedanduntieshisboots.Hepullshissocksoffand
tucksthemintotheshoes.MyheartswellsattheideathatIampartofafirstfor
Hardin.
“Oh.Whyisthat?”Iamtakingadvantageofhisdrunkenhonesty.
“BecauseIdon’twantto.Ihateithere,”heanswersquietlyandunbuttonshis
blackpantsandpullsthemdownhislegs.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Gettingundressed?”hesays,statingtheobvious.
“I mean, why?” Even though part of me is dying to feel his hands on me
again,Ihopehedoesn’tthinkI’mgoingtohavesexwithhim.
“Well,Iamnotsleepinginskinnyjeansandboots,”hehalflaughs.Hishand
sweepsthehairoffhisforehead,makingitstandstraightup.Everythinghedoes
sendsthatwildfeelingthroughmybody.
“Oh.”
Hepullshisshirtoverhishead,andIcan’tlookaway.Histattooedstomachis
flawless. He tosses the T-shirt at me, but I don’t catch it, letting it fall to the
ground.Iraiseoneeyebrowathimandhesmiles.
“You can sleep in that. I assume you won’t want to sleep in just your
underwear.Butofcourse,Iamperfectlyfinewithitifyoudo.”HewinksandI
giggle.
WhyamIgiggling?Ican’tsleepinhisT-shirt,Iwillfeeltoonaked.
“I’mfinesleepinginthis,”Itellhim
Heeyesmyoutfit.Hehasn’tmadeasinglerudecommentaboutmylongskirt
orlooseblueblouse,soIhopehedoesn’tstartnow.
“Fine.Suityourself;ifyouwanttobeuncomfortable,goahead.”He moves
towardthebedinonlyhisboxersandbeginstotossthedecorativepillowsonto
thefloor.
I walk over and open the chest, and just as I had thought, it is empty.“Oh,
don’t throw those down. They go in here,” I tell him, but he just laughs and
tossesanotherontothefloor.
Groaning,Igatherthepillowsandstuffthemintothechest.Heagainchuckles
andpullsbackthecomforterbeforeploppingdownontothebed.Hecrosseshis
arms behind his head, then crosses his feet and gives me a smile. The words
tattooedonhisribsarestretchedbecauseofthepositionofhisarms.Hislong,
leanbodylooksexquisite.
“You’renotgoingtowhineaboutsleepinginthebedwithme,areyou?”he
asks,andIrollmyeyes.Iactuallywasn’tgoingto.Iknowit’swrong,butIwant
tosleepinthebedwithHardinmorethanIthinkIhaveeverwantedanything.
“No,thebedisbigenoughforbothofus,”Isaywithasmile.Idon’tknowif
it’sHardin’ssmileorthefactthatheiswearingonlyboxers,butI’minamuch
bettermoodthanbefore.
“Nowthat’stheTessaIlove,”heteasesandmyheartlurchesathischoiceof
words.Iknowhedoesn’t,andwouldnever,meanitthatway,butitsoundedso
nicecomingoffhislips.
Iclimbontothebedandscoottotheedge,asfarawayfromHardin’sbodyas
Ican.AnyfartherandI’llfalloff.IhearhimchuckleandIrolloveronmyside
tofacehim.“Whatissofunny?”
“Nothing,” he lies, and bites his lip trying not to laugh. I like this playful
Hardin;hishumoriscontagious.
“Tellme!”Ipoutandpuckeroutmybottomlip.Hiseyesgostraighttomy
mouthandherunshistonguealonghislipsbeforehookinghislipringbetween
histeeth.
“You’veneversleptinabedwithaguybefore,haveyou?”Herollsontohis
sideandmovesalittleclosertome.
“No,” I simply answer, and his smile grows. We are only a couple of feet
apart, and before I know what I’m doing, my hand reaches out and pokes the
littledimpleon his cheek.His eyes dartto mine insurprise.I starttopull my
handaway,buthegrabsitandputsitbackagainsthischeek,thenmovesitup
anddownhischeekslowly.
“Idon’tknowwhynoonehasfuckedyouyet;allthatplanningyoudomust
helpyouputupareallygoodresistance,”hesays,andIgulp.
“I’veneverreallyhadto resistanyone,”Iadmit.Guysinhighschoolfound
meattractiveandhitonmeenough,butnooneevertriedtoactuallyhavesex
with me. They all knew I was with Noah; we were well liked and were both
votedontoHomecomingCourteveryyear.
“That’seitheralieoryouwenttoanall-blindhighschool.Yourlipsaloneare
enoughtomakemehard.”
Igaspathiswordsandhechuckles.Hebringsmyhandtohismouthandruns
it along his wet lips. His breath is hot against my fingers, and I’m surprised
whenhebareshisteethandgentlybitesthepadofmyindexfinger,somehow
makingmefeelitinthepitofmystomach.Hemovesmyhanddowntohisneck
andmyfingertipstracetheswirlofanivybranchtattooonhisneck.Hewatches
mecarefullybutdoesn’tstopme.
“You like the way I talk to you, don’t you?” His expression is dark but so
sexy. My breathing hitches and he smiles again. “I can see the blush in your
cheeksandIcanhearthewayyourbreathinghaschanged.Answerme,Tessa,
putthosefulllipsofyourstouse,”hesays,andIgiggle—Idon’tknowwhatelse
todo.Iwillneveradmitthewayhiswordsturnsomethingondeepinsideofme.
Heletsgoofmyhandbutwrapshisfingersaroundmywristandclosesthe
gapbetweenus.Iamhot,toohot.IneedtocooldownorIwillstartsweating
soon.
“Canyouturnthefanon?”Iaskandhefurrowshisbrow.“Please.”
Hesighsbutclimbsoffthebed.“Ifyouarehot,whydon’tyouchangeoutof
thoseheavyclothes;thatskirtlooksitchyanyway.”
Ihadbeenwaitingonhimtoteasemeformyclothes,butthisonlymakesme
smile,sinceIcanseehistruemotivehere.
“You should dress for your body, Tessa. These clothes you wear hide all of
yourcurves.IfIhadn’tseenyou in your bra and panties, I wouldneverknow
howsexyandcurvyyourbodyactuallyis.Thatskirtliterallylookslikeapotato
sack.”
I laugh, even though he is insulting me and somehow managing to
compliment me at the same time. “What do you suggest I wear? Fishnets and
tubetops?”
“No, well, I might love to see that, but no. You can still cover yourself but
wearclothesyoursize.Thatshirthidesyourchest,too,andyourtitsarenothing
youshouldbehiding.”
“Willyoustopusingthosewords!”Iscoldhimandhesmiles.
Rejoiningmeonthebed,hescootshispracticallynakedbodyclosetomine.I
am still hot, but Hardin’s odd way of complimenting me has given me a new
waveofconfidence.Iclimboutofbed.
“Whereareyougoing?”heslurs,hisvoicepanicked.
“Tochange,”Isay,andwalkovertograbhisT-shirtfromthefloor.“Nowturn
aroundanddon’tpeek.”Iputmyhandsonmyhips.
“No.”
“Whatdoyoumean,‘no’?”Howcanhebetellingmeno?
“Iwon’tturnaround.Iwanttoseeyou.”
“Oh,okay.”ButIjustsmile,shakemyhead,andturnthelightoff.
Hardinwhines,andIsmiletomyselfasIunzipmyskirt.Itpoolsatmyfeet
whenanotherlightclickson.
“Hardin!” I hurry and pick the skirt back up. Hardin is leaning up on his
elbowstolookatme,andheisn’tshyabouthiseyesmovingupanddownmy
body.He’sseenmeinlessclothingbefore,andIknowheisn’tgoingtolisten,so
Itakeadeepbreathandpullmyshirtovermyhead.NotthatIwon’tadmitthat
I’menjoyingthislittlegamewehavegoingrightnow.IknowdeepdownIwant
himtolookatme,thatIwanthimtowantme.I’mwearingaplainwhitebraand
whitepanties,nothingfancyorspecial,butHardin’sexpressionmakesmefeel
sexy. I take his T-shirt and pull it over my head. It smells so good, just like
Hardin.
“Come here,” he whispers from where he lies. I ignore my subconscious
tellingmetorunawayasfastasIcan,andwalktowardthebed.
chapterthirty-three
Hardin’s blazing eyes don’tleave mine as I make my way to him. I prop my
knee up on the bed and push myself onto it. At the same time, Hardin lifts
himselfupsohisbackisagainsttheheadboardandholdshishandoutformine.
ThesecondIplacemysmallhandinhis,hewrapshisfingersarounditandpulls
me onto him. My knees go around his sides and I am straddling his lap. I’ve
donethisbeforewithhim,butneverwearingsolittleclothing.Iholdmyselfup
usingmykneessowe aren’ttouching,butHardinisn’thavingit.Hepositions
his hands on my hips and gently pushes me down. His T-shirt bunches at my
sides,baringmythighscompletely,andIamsuddenlygladthatIshavedmylegs
this morning. The second our bodies touch my stomach begins to stir. I know
thishappinessthatIfeelisn’tgoingtolast,andIfeellikeCinderella,waitingfor
theclocktostrikeandendmyblissfulnight.
“Muchbetter,”hesaysandgivesmeacrookedsmile.
Iknowhe’sdrunkandthat’swhyheisbeingsonice—well,niceforhim—but
rightnowIwilltakeit.Ifthisistrulymylasttimearoundhim,thenthisishowI
wanttospendit.Ikeeptellingmyselfthat.IcanbehavehoweverIwanttonight
withHardinbecausewhenthedaylightcomes,Iamgoingtotellhimneverto
comenearmeagain,andhewilloblige.It’sforthebest,andIknowthatiswhat
hewillwantwhenheisn’tintoxicated.Inmydefense,Iamjustasintoxicatedby
Hardinasheisbythebottleofscotchheconsumed.Ikeeptellingmyselfthat,
too.
As Hardin continues to stare into my eyes, I begin to feel nervous. What
shouldIdonext?IhavenoideawherehewantstotakethisandIdon’twantto
makeafooloutofmyselfbytryingtodosomethingfirst.
Heseemstonoticemyuncomfortableexpression.
“What’swrong?”heasks,andbringsahandtomyface.Hisfingertracesover
mycheekboneandmyeyesinvoluntarilycloseathissurprisinglygentletouch.
“Nothing...Ijustdon’tknowwhattodo,”Iadmitandlookdown.
“Dowhateveryouwanttodo,Tess.Don’toverthinkit.”
Ileanbackalittletocreateaboutafootofspacebetweenourtorsosandbring
myhanduptohisbarechest.Ilookathimforpermissionandhenods.Ipress
bothhandsagainsthischestsoftlyandhecloseshiseyes.Myfingerstracethe
birdsonhischestanddowntothedeadtreeonhisstomach.Hiseyelashesflutter
as I trace the scripture on his ribs. His expression is so calm, but his chest is
moving up and down quicker than it was a few moments ago. I’m unable to
control myself as I bring my hand down and run my index finger along the
waistband of his boxers. His eyes shoot open and he looks nervous. Hardin,
nervous?
“CanI...um...touchyou?”IaskwiththehopethathegetswhatImean
without me having to say it. I feel detached from myself. Who is this girl
straddlingthispunkboyandaskingtotouchhim...downthere?Ithinkbackto
what Hardin said earlier about me being my true self with him. Maybe he is
right.IlovethewayIfeelrightnow.Ilovetheelectricityshootingthroughmy
bodywhenwe’relikethis.
Henods.“Please.”
SoIlowermyhand, keepingitontopofhisboxers,andslowlyIreachthe
slightbulgeinthefabric.HesucksinabreathasIgrazemyhandoverhim.I
don’t know what to do, so I just keep touching it, running my fingers up and
down. I am too nervous to look up at him, so I keep my eyes on his growing
crotch.
“Doyouwantmetoshowyouwhattodo?”heasksquietly,hisvoiceshaky.
Theusualcockydemeanorhasshiftedintosomethingmysterious.
Inodandheputshishandovermine,bringingitdowntotouchhimagain.He
opensmyhandandmakesmyfingerscuparoundhislength.Whenhesucksa
breathbetweenhislips,Ilookupathimthroughmylashes.Hetakeshishand
offmine,givingmefullcontrol.
“Fuck, Tessa, don’t do that,” he growls. Confused, I still my hand and am
abouttojerkitawaywhenhespeaksup.“No,no,notthat.Keepdoingthat—I
meandon’tlookatmethatway.”
“Whatway?”
“Thatinnocentway—thatlookthatmakesmewanttodosomanydirtythings
toyou.”
Iwanttothrowmyselfbackontothebedandlethimdowhateverhewants.I
wanttobehis—tobefreedforamomentfromwhateveritisthatmakesmeso
scaredsometimes.Igivehimasmallsmileandbegintomovemyhandagain.I
want to take his boxers off, but I’m afraid to. A moan escapes his lips and I
tightenmygrip;Iwanttohearthatsoundagain.Idon’tknowifIshouldmove
myhandfasterornot,soIkeepmymovementsslowandtight,andheseemsto
likeit.Ileaninandpressmylipsagainsttheclammyskinofhisneck,causing
himtomoanagain.
“Fuck,Tess,yourhandfeelssogoodwrappedaroundme.”Igivehimalittle
tightersqueeze and hewinces. “Not thathard, baby,” he saysin avoice that’s
softandsoundslikeitcouldneverbethesameonethatmockedmebefore.
“Sorry,”Isayandkisshisneckagain.Mytonguerunsovertheskinbeneath
hisearandhis body jumps.Hishandsgoto my chestandhecups my breasts
beneathhishands.
“CanI.Take.Off.Your...bra?”
Hisvoiceissouncontrolledandraspy;I’mamazedbytheeffectIamhaving
on him. I nod and his eyes light up in excitement. His hands are shaky as he
reachesundertheshirtandupmyback,unclaspingmybraassoonashisfingers
touch the strap with a dexterity that makes me think for a minute about how
manytimeshehasdonethisbefore.Iforcethethoughtstothebackofmymind,
andHardinslidesthestrapsdownmyarms,makingmeletgoofhim.Tossing
mybraoffthebed,hereturnshishandsupundermyshirtandgrabsholdofmy
breasts again. His fingers lightly pinch my nipples as he leans forward to kiss
me.Imoanintohismouthandreachdownandgrabhislengthagain.
“Oh,Tessa,I’mgoingtocome,”hesays,andIfeelthewetnessgrowinginmy
pantieseventhoughheisonlytouchingmychest.IfeellikeImaycome,too,
fromhismoans and hisgentleassaultagainst my breastsalone.His legs tense
undermeandhiskissbecomessloppier.Hishandsdropdownbyhissides,andI
feelawetnessspreadthroughhisboxersandpullmyhandaway.Ihavenever
madeanyoneelsecomebefore.Mychestheats,fillingwithastrangenewsense
thatI’mnowonestepclosertobeingawoman.Staringdownatthewetspoton
Hardin’sboxers,IlovethecontrolIfeeloverhim.IlovethatIcouldbringhis
bodypleasurethewayhedoesmine.
Hardin’s head rolls back and he takes a few deep breaths while I sit on his
thighs,unsurewhattodo.Afteramoment,hiseyesopenandheliftshishead
backuptolookatme.Alazysmilecrosseshisfaceandheleansforwardtokiss
meonmyforehead.
“I have never come like that before,” he says, and I am back to being
embarrassed.
“Itwasthatbad?”Iaskandtrytomoveoffhislegs.Hestopsme.
“What? No, you were that good. It usually takes more than someone just
grabbingmethroughmyboxers.”
Apangofjealousyhitsme.Idon’twanttothinkaboutalltheothergirlsthat
have made Hardin feel this way. He takes in my silence and cups my cheek,
brushinghisthumbalongmytemple.Iamcomfortedbythefactthattheothers
hadtodomorethanIdid,butIstillwishthereweren’tanyothers.Idon’tknow
why I bother to feel this way; Hardin and I are still unresolved. We are never
goingtodateorbeanythingotherthanthis,butrightnow,Ijustwanttolivein
themoment,justthetwoofus.Ilaughalittleasthethoughtcrossesmymind.I
amnota“liveinthemoment”typeofpersonatall.
“Whatareyouthinking?”heasks,butIshakemyhead.Idon’twant to tell
himaboutmyjealousthoughts.It’snotfair,andIdon’twantthatconversation.
“Ohcomeon,Tessa,justtellme,”hesays,andIshakemyheadagain.Ina
veryun-Hardinmovehegrabsholdofmyhipsandbeginstotickleme.Iscream
withlaughterandfalloffhimandontothesoftbed.Hecontinuestotickleme
until I can’t breathe. His laughter booms through the room—and it’s the most
beautifulsoundIhaveeverheard.Ihaveneverheardhimlaughthisway, and
something tells me hardly anyone has. Despite his flaws, his many flaws, I
considermyselfluckytoseehiminthismoment.
“Okay...okay!Iwilltellyou!”Iscreechandhestops.
“Goodchoice,”hesays.Butlookingdown,headds,“Butholdthatthought.I
needtochangemyboxers.”
Iblush.
chapterthirty-four
Hardingoesovertohisdresserandopensthetopdrawer,pullingoutapairof
blue-and-whiteplaidboxers,andholdsthemupintheairwithadisgustedlook
onhisface.
“What?”Iask,andpropmyheaduponmyelbowandlookathim.
“Thesearehideous,”hesays.
Ilaugh,butI’malsopleasedthattheearliersecretaboutwhetherornotthere
wereclothesinthedresserisnowsettledatleast.Landon’smotherorHardin’s
fathermusthavepurchasedalltheclothesintheroomforHardin.Whichissad,
really, that they would buy clothes and fill the dresser in hopes that Hardin
wouldcomearoundsometime.
“Theyaren’tsobad,”Itellhim,andherollshiseyes.Idoubtanythingwill
lookasgoodasHardin’susualblackboxerbriefs,butthenagainIcan’timagine
anythinglookingactuallybadonhim.
“Well,beggarscan’tbechoosers.Backinaminute,”hesaysandwalksoutof
theroomwearingonlyhiswetboxers.
OhGod,whatifLandonseeshim?Iwillbehumiliated.IneedtofindLandon
first thing in the morning to explain the turn of events. But, really, what am I
goingtosay?It’snotwhatitlookedlike.WewerejusttalkingandthenIagreed
tostaythenight,andsomehowIendedupinmypantiesandaT-shirt,andthen
gavehimtheclosestthingtoahandjobthatIknowof?Thatsoundsterrible.
Ilaymyheadontothepillowsandstareattheceiling.Iconsidergettingup
andcheckingmyphonebutdecideagainstit.ThelastthingIneedrightnowis
toreadtextsfromNoah.Heisprobablypanicking,but,honestly,aslongashe
doesn’t tell my mother, I don’t care as much as I should. If I’m completely
honestwithmyself,Ihaven’tfeltthesameaboutNoahsinceIkissedHardinfor
thefirsttime.
IknowIloveNoah;IhavealwayslovedNoah.ButI’mbeginningtoquestion
whether I really love him as a boyfriend and someone I could spend my life
with,orifIlovehimbecausehehasalwaysbeensuchastablepersoninmylife.
He’salwaysbeenthereforme—andonpaperwe’reperfectforeachother—but
Ican’tignorethewayIfeelwhenI’mwithHardin.I’veneverhadthesetypesof
feelingsbefore.Notjustwhenwe’reontopofeachother,butthewayhegives
mebutterfliesjustbylookingatme,thewayIfindmyselfdesperatelywanting
toseehimevenwhenI’mfumingmadathim,and,mostly,thewayhealways
invadesmythoughtsevenwhenItrytoconvincemyselfthatIhatehim.
HardinhasgottenundermyskinnomatterhowhardItrytodenyit.I’minhis
bedinstead ofwith Noah.On cue,the dooropens and I am snapped from my
thoughts.IlookupandseeHardininthecleanplaidboxersandgiggle.Theyare
alittletoobig,andmuchlongerthanhisbriefs,buttheystilllookgreat.
“I like them.” I smile and he glares at me before turning out the light and
switchingonthetelevision.Heclimbsbackontothebedandliesdowncloseto
me.
“So,whatwereyougoingtotellme?”heasks,andIcringe.Iwashopinghe
wouldn’tbringitupagain.
“Don’tbeshynow,you’vejustmademecomeinmyboxers,”hejokesand
thenpullsmeclosertohim.Iburymyheadinthepillow,andhelaughs.
IpullmyheadupandHardintucksmyhairbehindmyearbeforegivingmea
softkissonmylips.It’sthefirsttimehehaskissedmethattenderly,andyetit
feelsmoreintimatethanwhenwekisswithtongue.Helayshisheadbackonthe
pillowandchangesthechannel.IwanthimtoholdmeuntilIfallasleep,butI
getthefeelingHardinisnotacuddlingtypeofguy.
Iwanttobegood foryou,Tess. Hardin’s wordsfromearliertonight play in
myheadandIwonderifhemeantthemorifhewasjustreallydrunk.
“Areyoustilldrunk?”Iaskandlaymyheadonhischest.Hisbodystillsbut
hedoesn’tpushmeoff.
“No,Ithinkourlittlescreamingmatchintheyardsoberedmeup,”hesays.
One of his hands is holding the remote and the other is hanging in the air
awkwardlyasifhedoesn’tknowwhattodowithit.
“Oh,well,atleastsomethinggoodcameoutofit.”
He turns his head and looks down at me. “Yeah, I guess so,” he says, and
finallyputshishandonmyback.It’sanamazingfeelinghavinghimholdme.
Nomatterwhatterriblethinghesaystometomorrow,hecan’ttakethismoment
awayfromme.Thisismynewfavoriteplacetobe,myheadonhischestandhis
armonmyback.
“IthinkIactuallylikedrunkHardinbetter.”Iyawn.
“Isthatso?”hesaysandturnstolookatmeagain.
“Maybe,”Iteaseandclosemyeyes.
“You’reterribleatdistractions;now,tellme.”
Imightaswelljusttellhim.Iknowheisn’tgoingtodropit.
“Well,Iwasjustthinkingofallthegirlsyou’ve ...youknow,donethings
with.”Itrytohidemyfaceinhischest,buthedropstheremoteonthebedand
tiltsmychinuptolookathim.
“Whywereyouthinkingaboutthat?”
“Idon’tknow...becauseIhaveliterallynoexperienceandyouhavealot.
Steph included,” I answer. The image of the two of them together makes me
nauseous.
“Areyoujealous,Tess?”Hisvoiceisfullofhumor.
“No,ofcoursenot,”Ilie.
“Soyoudon’tmindifItellyouafewdetails,then?”
“No!Pleasedon’t!”Ibeg,andhechucklesandwrapshisarmalittletighter
aroundme.
He doesn’t say anything else about it, and I could not be more relieved. I
couldn’tbeartohearthedetailsofhisflings.Ifeelmyeyesgettingheavierand
trytofocusonthetelevision.Iamsocomfortablelyinghereinhisarms.
“You’renotgoingtosleep,areyou?It’sstillearly,”hesays,barelybreaking
throughmyhaze.
“Is it?” It feels like it has to be at least two in the morning. I arrived here
aroundnine.
“Yeah,it’sonlymidnight.”
“Thatisn’tearly.”Iyawnagain.
“Tomeitis.Plus,Iwanttoreturnthefavor.”
What?
Oh.
Myskinisstartingtotinglealready.
“Youwantmeto,don’tyou?”hepurrs,andIgulp.OfcourseIdo.Ilookupat
himandtrytohidemyeagersmile.Henoticesandwithaswift,delicatemotion
flipsusoversoheishoveringaboveme.Hesupportshisweightwithonearm
whilehisotherhandreacheslower.Ibringmyleguptohisside,andwhenmy
kneebendsherunshishandfrommyankletothetopofmythigh.
“Sosoft,”hesaysandrepeatsthemotion.Hegivesmythighalightsqueeze
andmyskiniscoveredingoosebumpswithinseconds.Hardinleansoverand
placesasinglekissonthesideofmyknee,causingmylegtojerk.Hegrabsit
andlaughs,hookinghisarmaroundit.
Whatishegoingtodo?Theanticipationisdrivingmecrazy.
“I want to taste you, Tessa,” he says, eyes locked on mine to gauge my
reaction.
Mymouthisinstantlyparched.Whyisheaskingtokissme,whenheknowshe
candothatanytime?Ipartmylipsandwaitforhim.
“No.Downhere,”hecorrectsme,bringinghishandinbetweenmylegs.My
lack of experience must astound him, but he at least tries to fight his smile. I
frownathimandhisfingertouchesmeovermypanties,causingmetosuckina
breath.Hisfingermakessoftstrokesovermysexashecontinuestolookinto
myeyes.
“You’realreadywetfor me.”Hisvoiceis raspier thanusual.His hot breath
stingsmyearandherunshistonguealongmyearlobe.
“Talktome,Tessa.Tellmehowbadlyyouwantit.”HesmirksandIsquirm
asheappliesmorepressuretomysensitivearea.
Ican’tfindmyvoicebecausemybodyisonfirefromhistouch.Afterafew
moresecondshepullshishandawayandIwhimper.
“Ididn’twantyoutostop,”Iwhine.
“Youdidn’tsayanything,”hesnaps,andIrecoil.Idon’twantthisHardin.I
wantthelaughing,playfulHardin.
“Couldn’tyoutell?”Iaskhimandmovetositup.
Hepullshimselfup and sitsonmy thighs, holding hisweighton his parted
knees.Hebrusheshisfingersacrossthetopsofmythighsandmybodyinstantly
reacts,shiftingmyhipstomeethis.
“Sayit,”Hardininstructs.IknowthatheiswellawarethatIdo;hejustwants
tomakemesayitaloud.Inodandhewaveshisfingerbackandforthinfrontof
me.
“Nonodding,justtellmewhatyouwant,baby,”hesays,andclimbsoffofmy
knees.Imentallyweightheprosandconsofthissituation.Isthehumiliationof
tellingHardinthatIwanthimto...kissmedownthereworththefeelingIwill
getfromhimdoingit?IfitfeelsanywherenearasgoodaswhatHardindidto
mewithhisfingerstheotherday,thenIknowit’sworthit.Ireachoutandgrab
his bare shoulder to stop him from moving any farther away from me. I’m
overthinkingthis,IknowIam,butmymindwon’tstopracing.
“Iwantyouto.”Imoveclosertohim.
“Wantmetowhat,Theresa?”Hehastobekiddingme;heknowsexactlywhat
he’sdoing.
“You know . . . to kiss me,” I say and his smile grows. He leans over and
plantsakissonmylips.Irollmyeyesandhekissesmylipsagain.
“Is that what you wanted?” he says with a smirk and I swat his arm. He is
goingtomakemebeghim.
“Kissme...there.”Iblushandcovermyfacewithmyhands.Hepullsthem
away, laughing, and I frown at him. “You’re embarrassing me on purpose.” I
scowl.Hishandsarestillonmine.
“I’mnotmeaningtoembarrassyou.Ijustwanttohearyousaywhatyouwant
fromme.”
“Nevermind,Hardin,”Isayandsighloudly.BecauseIamembarrassedand
maybemyhormonesaregoinghaywireandmessingwithmyemotionsbutnow
themomenthaspassedandI’mannoyedwithhisegoandconstantneedtogoad
me.Irolloverandlieonmyside,facingawayfromhim,andcovermyselfwith
theblanket.
“Hey,I’msorry,”hesays,butIignorehim.Iknowpartofmeisjustannoyed
at myself that being around Hardin has turned me into a typical hormonal
teenager.
“Goodnight,Hardin,”Isnapandhearhimsigh.Hemutterssomethingunder
hisbreaththatsoundslike“fine,”butIdon’taskhimtorepeatit.Iforcemyeyes
closedandtrytothinkofanythingbesidesHardin’stongueorthewayhisarm
justdrapedacrossmybodyasIfallasleep.
chapterthirty-five
Iamhot,toohot.Itrytopullthecoversoffme,buttheywon’tbudge.Whenmy
eyesopen,thenightbeforecomesfloodingintomymind:Hardinscreamingat
meintheyard,thescotchonhisbreath,thebrokenglassinthekitchen,Hardin
kissingme,HardinmoaningasItouchedhim,hiswetboxers.Itrytoliftmyself,
buthe’stooheavy,hisheadlyingacrossmychestandhisarmwrappedaround
mywaist,hisbodycloakingmine.I’msurprisedweendeduplikethis;hemust
have moved this way in his sleep. I do admit, I don’t want to leave this bed,
leaveHardin,butIhaveto.Ihavetogetbacktomyroom.Noahisthere.Noah.
Noah.
IgentlypushHardinoffbyhisshoulder,rollinghimontohisback.Thenhe
rollsontohisstomachandgroansbutdoesn’twake.
I hurry to my feet and grab my scattered clothes off the floor. Being the
cowardthatIam,Iwanttobeoutofherebythetimehewakes.Notthathe’ll
mind;atleasthewon’thavetoinvesthisenergyinhurtingmeonpurposeifI
leave on my own. This way is better for both of us. Regardless of how we
laughedtogetherlastnight,nothingisthesameinthelightofday.Hardinwill
rememberhowwegotalongprettywelllastnightandthenwillfeeltheneedto
beextrahatefultomakeupforit.It’swhathedoes,andIwillnotbearoundthis
time.Forasecondlastnight,thethoughthadcrossedmymindthatmaybeour
nighttogether would changehis mind,make him wantto havemore withme.
ButIknowbetter,really.
I fold his T-shirt neatly on the dresser and zip my skirt up. My shirt is
wrinkled from lying on the floor last night, but that’s really the least of my
worriesat the moment. I slip my feetinto myshoes and as I grabhold of the
doorhandle,Ithink,Onemorelookbackwon’thurt.
IlookbacktothesleepingHardin.Hismessyhairissprawledontothepillow,
and his arm is now draped over the side of the bed. He looks so peaceful, so
beautifuldespitethepiecesofmetalinhisface.
Iturnbackaroundandturnthedoorhandle.
“Tess?”
My heart drops. I slowly turn back around to Hardin, expecting to see his
harshgreeneyesglaringatme.Butinstead,theyareclosed;afrownissetonhis
face, but he is still asleep. I can’t decide if I’m relieved that he is asleep, or
somberthathecalledoutmyname.Isthatwhathedid,oramIhearingthings
now?
Ijumpoutoftheroomandgentlyclosethedoorbehindme.Ihavenoidea
howtogetoutofthishouse.IwalkstraightdownthehallandIamrelievedto
findthestairseasily.IpaddownthestairsandnearlycollidewithLandon.My
pulsequickensasItrytothinkofsomethingtosay.Hiseyesscanmyfaceand
hestayssilent,waitingforanexplanation,Iassume.
“Landon...I...”Ihavenoideawhattosay.
“Areyouokay?”heaskswithconcern.
“Yeah,I’mfine.Iknowyoumustthink—”
“Idon’tthinkanything.Ireallydoappreciateyoucoming.Iknowyoudon’t
likeHardin,anditmeansalottomethatyouwouldcomeheretohelpgethim
incontrol.”
Oh.Heissonice,toonice.Ialmostwanthimtotellmehowdisgustedheis
thatIstayedthenightwithHardin,thatIleftmyboyfriendaloneinmyroomall
night after I took his car and ran to Hardin’s rescue, just so I feel as bad as I
should.
“SoareyouandHardinfriendsagain?”heasks,andIshrug.
“I have no idea what we are. I have no idea what I’m doing. He just . . .
he . . .” I break into sobs. Landon wraps his arms around me in a warm and
comfortinghug.
“It’sokay.Iknowhecanbesoterrible,”Landonsayssoftly.Wait...hemust
think that I’m crying because Hardin did something terrible to me. He would
probablyneverassumethatI’mcryingbecauseofmyfeelingsforHardin.
IneedtogetoutofherebeforeIruinLandon’sgoodopinionofmeandbefore
Hardinwakesup.“Ihavetogo.Noahiswaiting,”Isay,andLandongivesmea
sympatheticsmilebeforesayinggoodbye.
IgetintoNoah’scaranddrivebacktomydormasfastasIcan,cryingmost
ofthewaythere.HowwillIexplainthisalltoNoah?IknowIhaveto—Ican’t
lietohim.Ijustcan’timaginehowmuchthiswillhurthim.
I’materriblepersonfordoingthistohim.Whycouldn’tIjuststayawayfrom
Hardin?
I’vecalmedmyselfasmuchasIcanbeforeIpullintothestudentlot.Iwalk
asslowasIcan,unsurehowI’mgoingtofaceNoah.
WhenIopenthedoortoourroom,IfindNoahlyingbackonmysmallbed,
staringattheceiling.Hejumpsupwhenheseesmecomein.
“Jesus,Tessa!Wherehaveyoubeenallnight?I’vebeencallingyounonstop!”
heshouts. This isthe first timeNoah has everactually raised hisvoice at me.
We’vebickeredbefore,butthisisalittlescarytosee.
“Iamso,sosorry,Noah.IwenttoLandon’shousebecauseHardinwasdrunk
andhewasbreakingthings,andthetimejustgotlost,Iguess,sobythetimewe
cleanedup,itwasreallylateandmyphonewasdead,”Ilie.
Ican’tbelieveI’mlyingstraighttohisface—allthetimeshehasbeenthere
forme,andhereIamlyingtohim.IknowIshouldtellhimbutIcan’timagine
hurtinghim.
“Why didn’t you use someone else’s phone?” he says forcefully, but then
pauses.“Nevermind—Hardinwasbreakingstuff?Areyouokay?Whydidyou
staythereifhewasbeingviolent?”
Ifeellikeheisaskingmeathousandquestionsatonce,disorientingme.
“Hewasn’tbeingviolent;hewasjustdrunk.Hewouldn’thurtme,”Isayand
covermymouth,desperatelywishingIcouldpushthoselastwordsbackin.
“Whatdoyoumeanhewouldn’thurtyou?Youdon’tevenknowhim,Tessa,”
hesnapsandtakesasteptowardme.
“I’m just saying that he wouldn’t hurt me like physically. I know him well
enoughtoknowthat.IwasjusttryingtohelpLandon,whowasthere,too,”Isay
back.
ButHardinwouldhurtme,emotionally—healreadyhas,andI’msurehewill
tryagain.AndhereIamdefendinghim.
“I thought you were going to stop hanging around those type of people?
Didn’tyoupromisemeandyourmomthatyouwould?Tessa,theyaren’tgood
foryou.You’vestarteddrinkingandstayingoutallnight,andyouleftmehere
allnight—Idon’tknowwhyyouevenhadmecomehereifyouwerejustgoing
toleave.”Hesitsdownonthebedandrestshisheadonhishands.
“They aren’t bad people; you don’t know them. When did you become so
judgmental?”Iaskhim.Ishouldbebeggingforhimtoforgivemeforhowbadly
I’vetreatedhim,butIcan’thelpbutbeirritatedbythewayhe’stalkingabout
myfriends.
MostlyHardin,mysubconsciousremindsme,andIwanttoslapher.
“I am not judgmental, but you would have never hung out with those Goth
peoplebefore.”
“What? They aren’t Gothic, Noah, they’re just themselves,” I say. I am as
surprisedbythedefianceinmywordsasNoahis.
“Well, I don’t like you hanging out with them—they’re changing you. You
aren’tthesameTessathatIfellinlovewith.”Irealizethenthathistonehasn’t
beenmaliciousatall.It’sjustsad.
“Well,Noah—”Ibegin,andthedoorfliesopen.MyeyesfollowNoah’stoan
angryHardinstormingintotheroom.
I look at Hardin,then at Noah, and back to Hardin. Thereis no way this is
goingtogowell.
chapterthirty-six
Whatareyoudoinghere?”IaskHardin,eventhoughIdonotwanttohearthe
answer,especiallynotinfrontofNoah.
“Whatdoyouthink?YousnuckoutonmewhileIwasasleep—whatthehell
wasthat?!”hebooms.Iholdmybreathashisvoiceechoesoffthewall.Noah’s
faceflasheswithangerandIknowthathe’sbeginningtoputthepuzzlepieces
together.
AndI’mtornbetweentryingtoexplaintoNoahwhatisgoingonandtryingto
explaintoHardinwhyIleft.
“Answerme!”Hardinyellsandstandsinfrontofmyface.I’msurprisedwhen
Noahstepsbetweenus.
“Don’tyellather,”hewarnsHardin.
I’mfrozeninplacewhileHardin’sfacetwistsinanger.Whyishesomadthat
Ileft?Hewasmockingmyinexperiencelastnight,andwouldhavekickedme
outthismorningprobablyanyway.Ineedtosaysomethingbeforethisallblows
upinmyface.
“Hardin...pleasedon’tdothisrightnow,”Ibeg.Ifheleavesnow,Icantry
toexplaintoNoahwhatisgoingon.
“Dowhat,Theresa?”HardinasksandwalksaroundNoah.IhopeNoahkeeps
hisdistance.Idon’tthinkHardinwillhesitatetotakehimdown.Noahispretty
bufffromsoccer,especiallycomparedtoHardin’sleanbody,butIhavenodoubt
thatHardincanholdhisown,andmostlikelywin.
What the hell is happening in my life that I have to worry about Noah and
Hardinfighting?
“Hardin, please just go and we will talk about this later,” I say, trying to
defusethings.
ButNoahjustshakeshishead.“Talkaboutwhat?Whatthehellisgoingon,
Tessa?”
OhGod.
“Tellhim;goonandtellhim,”Hardinsays.
Ican’tbelieveheisdoingthis.Iknowhowcruelhecanbe,butthistakesitto
awholeotherlevel.
“Tellmewhat,Tessa?”Noahasks, andIcanseehisstanceisanaggressive
one,becauseofHardin,butit’ssofteningashewondersaboutme.
“Nothing, just what you know, that I stayed at Hardin and Landon’s last
night,”Ilie.ItrytomatchmygrayeyestoHardin’sinhopesthathewillstop
thisnow,buthelooksawayimmediately.
“Tellhim,Tessa,orIwill,”Hardingrowls.
Iknowit’salllost.Iknowthere’snohidinganythinganymore,andIbeginto
cry.ButIwantNoahtohearitfromme,notthesmirkingassholewho’sbrought
us to this point. I’m humiliated—not for myself, but for Noah. He doesn’t
deserve any of this, and I’m ashamed of the way I’ve treated him and the
confessionsI’mgoingtobeforcedtomakeinfrontofHardin.“Noah...I...
meandHardinhavebeen...”Istart.
“OhmyGod,”Noahstutters,andhiseyesbegintowater.
HowcouldIdothistohim?WhatthehellwasIthinking?Noah issokind,
andHardin’scruelenoughtobreakNoah’sheartinfrontofhim.
Noah’s hands go to his forehead and he shakes his head. “How could you,
Tessa? After everything we have been through? When did this start?” Tears
streamdownhisfacefromhisbrightblueeyes.Ihaveneverfeltthisterrible—I
causedthosetears.IlookoveratHardinandmyhatredforhimconsumesmeso
that I shove him instead of answering Noah. Hardin is caught off guard and
stumblesbackward,buthesteadieshimselfbeforehefalls.
“Noah,Iamsosorry.Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinking.”Irushovertomy
boyfriend and try to hug him, but he refuses to let me touch him. And he’s
probablyrightto.IfI’mbeinghonest,I’venotbeengoodtoNoahforawhile.I
don’tknowwhatthehellIwasthinking.IsupposesomethingcrazylikeHardin
becoming decent and me breaking up with Noah so I could date him—how
stupid can I be? Or that I could just stay away from Hardin and Noah would
neverknowaboutwhathappenedbetweenus?TheproblemisthatIcan’tstay
awayfromHardin.Iamamothtohisflame,andheneverhesitatestoburnme.
Bothwerestupidandnaïveideas,butIhaven’tmadeonegoodchoicesinceI’ve
metHardin.
“I don’t know what you were thinking, either,” Noah says, with a look of
regretandhurtinhiseyes.“Idon’tevenknowyouanymore.”
Andwiththat,hewalksoutthedoor.Outofmylife.
“Noah,please!Wait!”Irushafterhim,butHardingrabsmyarmandtriesto
pullmeback.
“Don’t touch me! I can’tbelieve you! This is low, Hardin, even for you.” I
screamandjerkmyarmoutofhisgrasp.Ipushhimagain,hard.Ihavenever
pushedanyoneinmylifebeforetoday,andIhatehimsomuch.
“Ifyougoafterhim,I’mdone,”hesays,andmymouthfallsopen.
“Done? Done with what? Fucking with my emotions? I hate you!” But not
wanting him to feed off my rage, I slow down and speak more calmly. “You
can’tendsomethingthatneverbegan.”
Hishandsfalltohissidesandhismouthopensbutnowordscomeout.
“Noah!”Icalland rushoutthedoor.Irundownthe hallandoutacrossthe
greatlawn,finallycatchinguptohimintheparkinglot.Hestartswalkingfaster.
“Noah,pleaselisten.Iamsorry,sosorry.Iwasdrinking.Iknowthatisn’tan
excuse,butI...”Iwipemyeyesandhisfacesoftens.
“Ican’tlistentoyouanymore...”hesays.Hiseyesarered.Ireachforhis
hand,buthepullsaway.
“Noah,please,Iam so sorry. Please forgiveme.Please.”I can’tlosehim.I
justcan’t.
Reachinghiscar,herunsahandoverhisperfectlygelledhair,thenturnsto
faceme.“Ijustneedsometime,Tessa.Idon’tknowwhattothinkrightnow.”
I sigh in defeat, not knowing what to say to that. He just needs time to get
overthisandwecangobacktonormal.Hejustneedstime,Itellmyself.
“Iloveyou, Tessa,” Noahsays,then catches mebysurprise when hekisses
myforeheadbeforeclimbingintohiscaranddrivingaway.
chapterthirty-seven
Being the disgusting person that he is, Hardin is sitting on my bed when I
return. Visions of me grabbing the lamp and bashing him in the head flash
throughmymind,butIdon’thavetheenergytofightwithhim.
“I’m not going to apologize,” Hardin tells me as I walk past him toward
Steph’sbed.Iwillnotsitonmybedwhilehe’sonit.
“Iknowyouaren’t,”Isayandlieback.
Iwon’tlethimbaitmeintothisfight,andIdon’texpecthimtoapologize.I
knowhimbetterbynow.Well,recenthistorywouldsaythatIdon’tknowhimat
all.LastnightIthoughthewasjustanangryboywhosefatherlefthim,andthat
heheldontothathurt,usingtheonlyemotionhecouldtokeeppeopleout.This
morning, I see that he is just a terrible, hateful person. There is nothing good
aboutHardin.AtanymomentIbelievedtherewas,itwasonlybecausethatis
whathetrickedmeintobelieving.
“Heneededtoknow,”hesays.
Ibitedownonmyliptopreventthetearsfromreturning.IstayquietuntilI
hear Hardin get up and move toward me. “Just go, Hardin,” I say, but when I
lookupheisstandingoverme.Whenhesitsdownonthebed,Ijumpup.
“Heneededtoknow,”herepeats,and anger boils inside me. I know hejust
wantstogetariseoutofme.
“Why,Hardin?Whydidheneedtoknow?Howcouldhurtinghimpossiblybe
agoodthing?Youweren’taffectedonebitbyhimnotknowing—youcouldhave
goneonwithyourdaywithouttellinghim.Youhadnorighttodothattohim,or
me.”IfeelthetearscomingagainbutthistimeIcan’tstopthem.
“IwouldwanttoknowifIwashim,”hesays,hisvoicesteadyandcold.
“You aren’t him, though, and you never will be. I was stupid to think you
couldpossiblybeanythingevenclosetohim.Andsincewhendoyoucareabout
whatisright?”
“Don’t you dare compare me to him,” he snaps. I hate the way he chooses
only one of my statements to respond to, and that he usually warps what I’m
sayingtobetterprovokehimself.Hestandsupandmovestowardme,butIback
awaytotheothersideofthebed.
“There is no comparison. Don’t you get that by now? You are a cruel and
disgustingjerkwhodoesn’tgiveashitaboutanyonebutyourself.Andhe—he
lovesme.Heis willing to try to forgive me for my mistakes.” I stare into his
eyes.“Myterriblemistakes,”Iadd.
HardintakesastepbackasifI’dpushedhim.“Forgiveyou?”
“Yeah,hewillforgivemeforthis.Iknowhewill.Becausehelovesme,so
yourpatheticplantogethimtobreakupwithmesoyoucansitbackandlaugh
didn’twork.Nowgetoutofmyroom.”
“Thatwasn’t...I—”hestartstosay,butIcuthimoff.I’vewastedenough
timeonhimalready.
“Getout!Iknowyou’reprobablyalreadyplottingyournextmoveagainstme,
butguesswhat,Hardin?Itisn’tgoingtoworkanymore.Nowgetthefuckoutof
myroom!”Iamsurprisedatmyharshwords,butIdon’tfeelbadforusingthem
againstHardin.
“Thatisn’twhatI’mdoing,Tess.Ithoughtafterlastnight...Idon’tknow,I
thoughtyouandI...”Heseemstobeatalossforwords,whichisafirst.Part
ofme,ahugepartofme,isdyingtoknowwhatheisgoingtosay,butthisis
howIgotsotangledinhiswebinthefirstplace.Heusesmycuriosityagainst
me,likeit’sallagametohim.Ifuriouslywipemyeyes,thankfulIdidn’twear
makeupyesterday.
“Youaren’treallyexpectingmetobuythat,areyou?Thatyoufeelsomething
aboutme?”
Ineedtostopandheneedstoleavebeforehisclawssinkdeeperintome.
“OfcourseIdo,Tessa.Youmakemefeelso—”
“No!Idon’twanttohearit,Hardin.Iknowyou’relying,andthisisyoursick
way of getting off.To makeme believe that you could possibly feelthe same
wayaboutmeasIdoaboutyou,andthenwillfliptheswitch.Iknowhowthis
goesbynow,andIwon’tkeepitgoing.”
“Feelthesamewayyoudo?Areyousayingthatyou...youhavefeelingsfor
me?”Hiseyesflashwithwhatappearstobehope.Heisamuchbetteractorthan
Ithought.
HeknowsIdo,hehastoknowthat.Whatotherreasoncouldtherebeforme
to keep this unhealthy cycle between us going? With a fear I’ve never felt
before, I realize that though I had barely admitted my feelings for Hardin to
myself,Inowhaveputthemoutthereinfrontofhim,givinghimeasyaccessto
smashthem.Worsethanhealreadyhas.
IfeelmywallsslowlybeingtorndownbythewayHardinislookingatme
andIcan’tletithappen.“Leave,Hardin.Iwon’taskagain.Ifyoudon’tleaveI
willcallcampussecurity.”
“Tess,pleaseanswerme,”hebegs.
“Don’tcallmeTess;thatnameisreservedforfamily,friends,forpeoplewho
actuallycareaboutme—nowleave!”Iyell,muchlouderthanIhadplanned.I
needhimtogetoutandgetawayfromme.IhatewhenhecallsmeTheresa,but
IhatewhenhecallsmeTessevenmore.Somethingaboutthewayhislipsmove
whenhesaysitmakesitsoundsointimate,solovely.Damnit,Tessa.Juststop.
“Please,Ineedtoknowifyou—”
“Whatalongweekend,boysandgirls—Iamexhausted!”Stephsays as she
bursts into the room, playful exhaustion coloring her words. But when she
noticesmytearstainedcheeks,shestopsandhereyesnarrowatHardin.
“Whatisgoingon?Whatdidyoudo?!”sheyellsathim.“WhereisNoah?”
sheasksandlooksatme.
“Heleft,justlikeHardinisaboutto,”Itellher.
“Tessa...”Hardinbegins.
“Steph, please make him leave,” I beg and she nods. Hardin’s mouth falls
open with annoyance at my use of Steph against him. He thought he had me
trappedagain.
“Let’sgo,BoyWonder,”shesaysandgrabshisarm,dragginghimtowardthe
door.
IstareatthewalluntilIhearthedoorshutbutimmediatelyheartheirvoices
inthehall.
“Whatthehell,Hardin?Itoldyoutostayawayfromher;sheismyroommate
and she’s not like the other girls you mess with. She’s nice, innocent, and,
honestly,toogoodforyou.”
Iampleasedandsurprisedbythewaysheisstickingupforme.Butitstill
doesn’t soothe the pain in my chest. My heart literally hurts. I thought I had
experienced heartbreak after my day with Hardin at the stream, but that was
nothing compared to how I feel right now. I hate to admit it to myself, but I
knowthatspendingthenightwithHardinlastnightmademyfeelingsforhimso
muchstrongerthantheyalreadywere.Hearinghimlaughwhilehetickledme,
the way he gently kissed my lips, his tattooed arms wrapping around me, the
wayhiseyesflutteredandclosedwhenItracedmyfingersoverhisbareskin—
allofitmademefalldeeperforhim.Thoseintimatemomentsbetweenusthat
mademecareforhimmorealsomakethishurtsomuchmore.Ontopofthat,I
havehurtNoahinawaythatIcanonlyprayheforgivesmefor.
“It’s not like that.” In his anger his accent has become thick and his words
clipped.
“Bullshit,Hardin,Iknowyou.Findsomeoneelsetomessaroundwith;there
areplentyofothergirls.Sheisn’tthetypeofgirlyouneedtobedoingthiswith;
shehasaboyfriendandshecan’thandlethisshit.”
Idon’tlikehearinghersaythatI’mtoosensitive,likeI’mweakorsomething,
butIguesssheisright.IhavedonenothingbutcrysinceImetHardin,andnow
hehastriedtoruinmyrelationshipwithNoah.Idon’thavewhatittakestobe
somethinglikefriendswithbenefits,regardlessofhowhemakesmefeel.Ihave
morerespectformyselfthanthatandI’mtooemotional.
“Fine.Iwillstayawayfromher.Butdon’tbringhertoanymorepartiesatmy
house,” he snaps, and I hear him stomping off. As he goes down the hall, his
voicerecedes,too,asheyells,“Imeanit,Idon’twanttoseeheragain!AndifI
do,Iwillruinher!”
chapterthirty-eight
Stephwalksinandrightawaywrapshertinyarmsaroundme.It’soddthather
frailarmscanfeelsocomforting.
“Thankyouformakinghimleave,”Isay,sobbing,andshehugsmetighter.
MytearsreallyareflowingnowandIdon’tseeanendinsight.
“Hardinmaybemyfriend,butsoareyou,andIdon’twanthimupsettingyou.
I’msorry,thisisallmyfault.IknewIshouldhavegivenmykeytoNate,andI
shouldn’thavelethimcomearoundyouallthetime.Hecanbearealdick.”
“No,it’snotyourfaultatall.Iamsorry,Idon’twanttocomeinbetweenyour
friendship.”
“Ohplease,”shesays.
Ipulloutofherembraceandseethelookofconcernonherface.Iappreciate
herbeingherewithmemorethanshewilleverknow.Ifeelcompletelyalone:
Noah’stakingtimetodecidewhethertobreakupwithmeornot,Hardinisan
asshole,mymotherwouldloseitifItalkedtoheraboutthis,andLandonwould
be disappointed in me if he knew the depth of my situation with Hardin. I
literallyhavenooneexceptthisflame-haired,tattooedgirlwhoIneverexpected
wouldbecomemyfriend.ButI’mreallygladshedid.
“Doyouwanttotalkaboutit?”
Ido,actually,Iwanttogetitalloffmychest.Itellhereverything,fromthe
firsttimeIkissedHardin,toourdayatthestream,totheorgasmIgavehimand
how he called my name in his sleep, to the way he destroyed every ounce of
respectIhadforhimwhenhemademetellNoah.Herfacegoesfromconcerned
toshockedtosadduringmystory.Myshirtissoakedwithtearsby the timeI
finishandsheisholdingmyhand.
“Wow,Ihadnoideathatsomuchhappened.Youcouldhavetoldmeafterthe
firsttime.IknewsomethingwasupwhenHardinshowedupherethenightwe
weregoingtothemovies.Ihadliterallyjustgotoffthephonewithhim,thenhe
shows up, so I’d suspected he came here to see you. Listen, Hardin is a good
guy,sometimes.Imean,deepdownhejustdoesn’tknowhowtoreallycarefor
someonethewaythatyou—well,mostgirls—needtobecaredfor.IfIwasyou,
I would try to make things work with Noah because Hardin isn’t capable of
beinganyone’sboyfriend,”shesaysandsqueezesmyhand.
Iknoweverythingsheissayingistrueandsheisright.Sowhydoesithurtso
bad?
ON MONDAY MORNING, Landon is leaning against the brick outside the
coffeehouse,waitingforme.IwavewhenIseehim,butthenInoticehehasa
blue-purpleringaroundhislefteye.AndwhenIlookcloser,Iseeanotherbruise
onhischeek.
“Whathappenedtoyoureye?!”Iexclaim,runninguptohim.
Realizationhitsmelikeatruck.“Landon!DidHardindothis?”Myvoiceis
shaky.
“Yeah...”headmitsandIamhorrified.
“Why?Whathappened?”IwanttokillHardinforhurtingLandon.
“Hestormedoutofthehouseafteryouleftandthencamebackaboutanhour
later.Hewassopissed.Hestartedlookingaroundformorestufftobreak,soI
stoppedhim.Well,Ifoughtwithhim.Itwasn’tsobad,actually.Ithinkbothof
usgotalotofourangertowardeachotherout.Igotquiteafewgoodhitson
him,too,”heboasts.
Idon’tknowwhattosay.I’msurprisedatLandon’slighttonewhiletalking
aboutfightingwithHardin.
“Areyousureyou’reokay?IsthereanythingIcando?”Iaskhim.Ifeellike
thisismyfault.Hardinwasmadbecauseofme,butassaultingLandon?
“No,really,I’mokay.”Hesmiles.
WhilewewalktoclasshetellsmehowHardin’sfatherbrokeuptheirfight,
luckily arriving home before they killed each other, and how his mother cried
whensherealizedHardinhadbrokenallherdishes.Thoughtheydidn’thaveany
sentimentalvalue,shewashurtthatHardinwoulddothatnonetheless.
“But in other news, much better news, Dakota is coming to visit next
weekend.Sheiscomingtothebonfire!”Hesmiles.
“Bonfire?”
“Yeah, haven’t you seen the signs all over campus? It’s an annual thing, to
startthenewyear.Everyonegoes.Iamnotusuallyintostufflikethat,butit’s
actuallyaprettygoodtime.Noahshouldcomeupagain.Wecanmakeadouble
dateoutofit.”
Ismileandnod.MaybeinvitingNoahwouldshowhimIdohavesomegood
friends, like Landon. I know Hardin and Landon—I mean, Noah and Landon
wouldgetalonggreat,andIreallywanttomeetDakota.
Now that Landon has mentioned the bonfire, I notice signs littering almost
everywall.IguessIwasjusttoodistractedallweektonotice.
BeforeIknowit,I’minLiteratureandbeginscanningtheroomforHardin,
despitemysubconsciousshoutingatmenotto.WhenIdon’tseehimhisvoice
playsinmyhead:Iwillruinher.
What could he possibly do that’s worse than outing me in front of Noah? I
don’tknow,butIstartimaginingthingsuntilLandonbreaksmeoutofmyzone.
“Idon’tthinkhe’shere.IheardhimtalkingtothatZedguyaboutswitching
hisclassesaround.Darn,Idowishyoucouldseehisblackeye.”Landonsmiles
atmeandmyeyessnaptothefrontoftheroom.
IwanttodenythatIwaslookingforHardin,butIknowIcan’t.Hardinhasa
blackeye?Ihopeheisokay;no,Idon’t,actually.Ihopeithurtslikehell.
“Oh,okay,”Imumbleandpickatmyskirt.
Landondoesn’tmentionHardinfortherestoftheclass.
THERESTOFTHEWEEKisexactlythesameway:Idon’ttalkaboutHardin
toanyoneandnoonementionshimtome.Tristanhasbeenhangingoutinour
roomallweek,butIdon’tmind.IactuallyreallylikehimandhemakesSteph
laugh,andevenme,too,sometimes,despitewhatseemstobetheworstweekof
mylife.I’vejustbeenwearingwhateveriscleanandhandyandpullingmyhair
into a bun every day. My short-lived affair with eyeliner has ended and I am
backtomynormalroutine.
Sleep,class,study,eat,sleep,class,study,eat.
ByFriday,Steph’sclearlymakinganefforttogetthisspinsteroutandabout.
“Comeon,Tessa,it’sFriday.Justcomewithusandwe’lldropyoubackoff
beforewegotoHar...Imeantheparty,”shebegs,butIshakemyhead.Idon’t
feellikedoinganything.Ineedtostudyandcallmymother.I’vebeendodging
hercallsallweek,andIneedtocallNoahandfindoutifhe’smadeadecision.
I’vebeengivinghimhisspaceallweek,onlysendinghimafewfriendlytextsin
hopesthathewillcomearound.Ireallywanthimtocometothebonfirenext
Friday.
“IthinkIwillpass...I’mlookingatcarstomorrow,soIneedmyrest,”Ihalf
lie.IreallyamgoingtolookatcarstomorrowbutIknowIwon’tbegettingrest
sittingherealonewithmythoughtsaboutNoah’suncertainty,abouthowHardin
wasobviouslyseriousaboutstayingawayfromme—whichI’mreallygladhe’s
done.I just can’t shake him from my thoughts. I just need more time, I keep
tellingmyself.
ButthewayheactedlikehewantedsomethingfrommethelasttimeIsaw
him,thatgotundermyskin.
MythoughtsdriftofftoaplacewhereHardinwaspleasantandfunnyandwe
gotalong.Aplacewherewecoulddate,reallydate,andhewouldtakemeoutto
themoviesortodinner.HewouldputhisarmaroundmeandbeproudthatIwas
his;hewoulddrapehisjacketovermyshouldersifIwascoldandkissmegood
night,promisingmethathewouldseemetomorrow.
“Tessa?” Steph says and my thoughts disappear like a puff of smoke. They
weren’trealityandtheboyinmydaydreamwouldneverbeHardin.
“Ohcomeon,you’vebeenwearingthosefuzzycloudpantsallweek,”Tristan
teasesandIlaugh.Thesepantsaremyfavoritetoweartobed,especiallywhenI
am sick, or going through a breakup, or two. I’m still confused about how
HardinandIendedsomethingthatwasnothingtobeginwith.
“Okay.Okay,butyouneedtodropmeoffrightafterdinnerbecauseIhaveto
getupearly,”Iwarn.
Stephclapsandjumpsupanddown.“Yay!Justpleaseletmedoyouafavor?”
sheaskswithaninnocentsmilewhileshebatsherlashes.
“What?”Iwhine,knowingsheisuptonogood.
“Letmegiveyoualittlemakeover?Pleeeaassee!”Shedrawsoutthewordfor
dramaticpurposes.
“No. Way.” I can picture myself with pink hair and pounds of eyeliner,
wearingonlyabraforashirt.
“Nothingtoodramatic,Ijustwanttomakeyoulook...likeyouhaven’tbeen
hibernatinginpajamasallweek.”ShesmilesandTristantriestostiflehislaugh.
AndwhenIgiveinandsay,“Fine,”shebeginsclappingagain.
chapterthirty-nine
AfterStephhaspluckedmyeyebrows—aprocedurethathurtworsethanIever
imagined—sheturnsmearoundandrefusestoletmeseemyselfuntilshe’sdone
puttingonmymakeup.Ifightthenervousfeelinginmystomachasshedusts
powderontomyface.Iremindheroverandovernottoputtoomuchmakeupon
me, and she promises over and over that she won’t. She brushes my hair and
curlsitbeforecoatingmyhairandhalfoftheroomwithhairspray.
“Makeup and hair: done! Let’s get you changed, and then you can see
yourself. I have a few things that will fit you.” She is obviously proud of her
work.IjusthopethatIdon’tlooklikeaclown.Followinghertothecloset,Itry
tosneakapeekinhersmallmirrorbutsheyanksmeaway.
“Here,putthison,”shesays,pullingablackdressoffahanger.“Out,you!”
sheshoutsatTristan,andhelaughsbutgraciouslyleavestheroom.
Thedressisstraplessandlooksincrediblyshort.“Ican’twearthis!”
“Fine...howaboutthisone?”Shepullsanotherblackdressout.Shemust
haveat leastten. Thisone lookslonger thanthe lastand hastwo thickstraps.
Thenecklineworriesmebecauseit’sintheshapeof aheartandmybustisn’t
smalllikehers.
WhenItaketoolonglookingitover,shesighs.“Justtryit,please?”
Iobligeandtakemycomfortablepajamasoffandfoldthemintoaneatpile.
SherollshereyesatmeplayfullyandIsmilewhilesteppingintothedress.Ipull
itupmybodyanditfeelsalittlesnugbeforeit’sevenzipped.StephandIaren’t
thatmuchdifferentinsizebutsheistallerandI’mcurvier.Thematerialhasa
slightshinetoitandfeelssilky.Thebottomofthedressreacheshalfwaydown
mythigh.Itisn’tasshortasIthoughtitwouldbe,butitisshorterthananything
Iwouldeverwear.Ifeelalmostnakedwithmylegsthisexposed.Myfingerstug
atthematerialtotrytopullitdownalittle.
“Youwantsometights?”sheasks.
“Yeah,Ijustfeelso...naked.”Ilaugh.Shedigsintoherdrawerandpullsout
twodifferentpairsoftights.“Theseareplainblack,andthesehavealaceprint.”
Lacetightsarejusttoomuchforme,especiallygiventhefactthatIprobably
havetenpoundsofmakeupon.Igrabtheplainonesandslidethemonmylegs
whileStephdigsthroughherclosetforshoes.
“Ican’twear heels!” I remindher.I literallycan’t;I waddle like an injured
penguininthem.“Well,Ihavelowheelsorwedges.Tessa,I’msorrybutyour
Tomsjustwon’tworkwiththisdress.”
Iscowlatherjokingly.IamperfectlyfinewearingTomseveryday.Shepulls
outa pair ofblack heels with silver beadingon the front, and I have to admit
theycatchmyeye.Icouldneverwearthem,butforonceIwishIcould.
“Youlikethese?”
Inod.“Yeah,butIcan’tpullthemoff,”Itellherandshefrowns.
“Yes,youcan,theystraparoundyourankletopreventyoufromfalling.”
“Isthatwhatthestrapisactuallyfor?”Iask.
Shelaughs.“No,butithelpswiththat.”Shelaughsagain.“Justtrythem.”
Isitonthebedandstretchmylegsout,gesturingforhertoputthemonme.
ShehelpsmestandupandItakeafewsteps.Thestrapsreallydohelpwith
mybalance.
“I can’t wait any longer! Look at yourself,” she says and opens the other
closetdoor.Ilookinthefull-bodymirrorandgasp.
Whotheheckisthat?Myreflectionlooksjustlikeme,butalotbetter.Iwas
afraidshewouldgooverboardonmymakeup,butshedidn’t.Mygrayeyeslook
lighteragainstthechestnuteyeshadow,andthepinkblushonmycheeksmakes
my cheekbones more prominent. My hair looks shiny and is curled into big
waves,notthesmall,stringycurlsIwasexpecting.
“Iamimpressed.”Ismileandlookcloser.Ipokemycheektomakesurewhat
I’mseeingisreal.
“See,youarestillyou.Justamoresexy,well-keptyou.”Shegigglesandcalls
forTristantojoinus.
He opens the door and his lips part. “Where is Tessa?” he asks and looks
aroundtheroomplayfully.Hepicksupapillowandlooksunderit.
“Whatdoyouthink?”Iaskandtugthedressdownagain.
“You look great, really great.” He smiles and wraps his arm around Steph’s
waist.SheleansinandIlookaway.
“Oh,onemorething,”shesaysandreachesovertothedresser,pullingouta
tubeoflipglossandpuckeringherlips.Iclosemyeyesanddothesamewhile
sherubsthestickyglossacrossmylips.
“Ready?”Tristanasksandshenods.
Asweheadout,IgrabmypurseandthrowapairofTomsinside,justincase.
DURING THE DRIVE I sit in the back and stare out the window, letting my
mind wander. When we arrive at the restaurant, I cringe at the number of
motorcyclesoutside.I had assumedwe would begoing somewhere likeT.G.I.
Friday’sorApplebee’s,notabikerbarandgrill.WhenwewalkinsideIfeellike
everyoneisstaringatme,eventhoughtheyprobablyaren’t.
Stephgrabsaholdofmyhandandpullsmealongastheywalktoaboothin
theback.“Nateiscoming.That’sokay,right?”sheasksaswetakeourseats.
“Yeah,ofcourse,”Itellher.Aslongasit’snotHardin,Idon’tmind.Besides,
somecompanywouldbenice,becauserightnowIfeellikethethirdwheel.
A woman with even more tattoos than Steph and Tristan strides over to the
tableandtakesourdrinkorder.StephandTristanbothorderbeers.Thismustbe
why they like to come here, because they don’t card. The woman raises an
eyebrowwhenIorderaCoke,butIdon’twanttodrink.Ihavestudyingtodo
whenIgetbacktomyroom.MinuteslatershebringsourdrinksandI’mtaking
abigswigwhenIhearawolfwhistleasNateandZedwalktowardourtable.As
theygetcloser,Molly’spinkhaircomesintoview...followedbyHardin.
IspittheCokebackintomycup.
Steph’seyeswidenasshelayseyesonHardinandshelooksatme.“IswearI
didn’t know he was coming. We can leave now if you want,” she whispers as
Zedslidesintotheboothnexttome.Ihavetoforcemyselfnottolooktoward
Hardin.
“Whoa,Tessa,youlooksuperhot!”Zedproclaims,andIblush.“Really,like
wow!I’veneverseenyoulikethis.”
Ithankhimbywayofasmallsmile.Nate,Molly,andHardinsitinthebooth
behind us. I want to ask Steph to trade seats with me so my back will be to
Hardin, but I can’t bring myself to. I will just avoid eye contact with him the
entiretime.Icandoit.
“Youdolooksmokin’,Tessa,”Natesaysoverthedivider,andIsmilebecause
I’mnotusedtoallthisattention.Hardinhasn’tcommentedonmynewlook,but
Ididn’texpecthimto.I’mjustgladheisn’tinsultingme.
HardinandMollyaresittingrightinmylineofsight.IcanseeHardin’sentire
facethroughthespacebetweenStephandTristan’sshoulders.
IfIjustlookonce,itcouldn’thurt...StealingapeekbeforeIcanstopmyself,
Iinstantlyregretit.Hardin’sarmishookedaroundMolly’sshoulders.
Jealousy tears through me—my punishment for looking at him when I
shouldn’tbe.Ofcoursetheyareprobablymessingaroundagain.Orstill.They
probablyneverstopped.Irememberhowcomfortableshewasstraddlinghimat
theparty,andIswallowdownthebilerisinginmythroat.Hardinisfreetodo
whateverorwhoeverhepleases.
“Shedoeslookgreat,doesn’tshe?”Stephencouragesthemandtheyallnod.
I can feel Hardin’s eyes on me but I can’t look over at him again. He is
wearingawhiteT-shirtthatI’msureletshistattoosshowthrough,andhishairis
perfectly messed up, but I don’t care. I don’t care how good he looks or how
skankyMollyisdressed.
She’ssoirritating,withherstupidpinkhairandherskankyclothes.Sheisa
slut.I’msurprisedbymythoughtsandmyangertowardher,butit’strue.AndI
reallydon’tlikeher.Idon’tthinkI’veactuallyevercalledanyoneaslut,evenin
myhead.
Soofcourseshepicksrightnowtocomplimentme.“Youdolookgood,girl,
betterthaneverbefore!”shesaysandthenleansintoHardin’schest.
Imakeeyecontactwithherandfakeasmile.
“MindifIhaveasip?”Zedasks,butgrabsmycupbeforeIreallyanswer.
I let him drink out of my glass, which I’m usually against, but I am so
uncomfortablerightnowthatIcan’tthinkstraight.HegulpsdownhalfmyCoke
andInudgehim.
“Sorry, babe, I’ll order you another,” he says smoothly. He really is very
attractiveandlooksmorelikeamodelthanacollegestudent.Ifhedidn’thave
somanytattoos,heprobablywouldbeamodel.
Anoisecomesfromtheotherbooth,andmyeyesdarttoHardin.Heclearshis
throatloudly,staringatmewithblazingeyes.Iwanttolookaway,butIcan’t.
I’m caught in his gaze as Zed lifts his arm up and rests it on the back of the
booth,directlybehindme.
Hardin’seyesnarrowandIdecidetohavealittlefun.
RememberingthathewasprettyadamantaboutmenothangingoutwithZed
before, I lean into Zedever so slightly. Hardin’seyes go wide, but he quickly
recovers.I know howimmature andridiculous this whole thing is,but I don’t
care.IfIhavetobearoundhim,IwanthimtobeasuncomfortableasIam.
Thebikerwomanreturnsandtakeseveryone’sfoodorder.Igowithaburger
and fries, minus the ketchup, and everyone else orders hot wings. She brings
HardinaCokeandtherestofthemanotherroundofbeers.Iamstillwaitingon
myCokebutIdon’twanttoberudebypointingthatouttothewoman.
“Theyhavethebestwingshere,”ZedinformsmeandIsmileathim.
“Soareyougoingtothebonfirenextweekend?”Iaskhim.
“I don’t know, it’s not really my scene.” He takes a drink of his beer and
brings his arm down from the booth to rest fully over my shoulder. “Are you
going?”
Idon’tlookhisway,butIimagineHardin’sirritationatthis.Truthis,Idofeel
guiltyflirtingwithhimthisway,andI’veneverreallytriedtoflirtwithanyone
before,soI’msureIamterribleatit.“Yeah,withLandon.”
Everyoneburstsintolaughter.“LandonGibson?”Zedasks,stilllaughing.
“Yeah,he’smy friend,” Isnap. I don’tlikethewaythey arealllaughing at
him.
“Hewouldgotothebonfire!Heissuchalame,”Mollysays,andIglareat
her.
“No,he isn’t,actually. He is really cool,” I say inhis defense. I understand
thatmydefinitionofcoolisnotthesameastheirs,butmineisbetter.
“LandonGibson and cool do not belong in the same sentence,” Molly says
andbrushesHardin’shairbackoffhisforehead.
Ihateher.
“Well,sorryifheisn’tcoolenoughtohangoutwithyouguys,butheis...”I
start to shout and sit up straighter in the booth, knocking Zed’s arm off my
shoulders.
“Whoa,Tessa,calmdown.Wearejustteasing,”NatesaysandMollysmirks
atme.Igetthefeelingshedoesn’tcareformemuch,either.
“Well,Idon’tlikewhenpeopleteasemyfriends,especiallywhenheisn’there
todefendhimself.”Ineedtocalmdown...Myemotionsarerunningwildfrom
beingaroundHardinandthewayhe’shangingalloverMollyinfrontofme.
“Okay,okay,I’msorry.Besides,Idogottagivehimsomecreditforthatblack
eye he gave Hardin,” Zed says and wraps his arm back around me. Everyone
excerptHardinlaughs,evenme.
“Yeah, good thing that professor broke the fight up, or Hardin would have
gottenbeatevenworsebytheloser—”Natesaysandthenlooksatme.“Sorry,it
slipped,”hesaysandgivesmeanapologeticsmile.
Aprofessor?Theirfightwasn’tbrokenupbyaprofessor—itwasbrokenup
byHardin’sdad.EitherLandon lied,or. . .wait,I wonder if these guys even
knowHardinandLandonaresoontobestepbrothers.IlookatHardin,whonow
looksworried.Heliedtothem.Ishouldcallhimoutonitrightnowinfrontof
everyone.
ButIcan’t.I’mnotlikehim.Ifindithardertohurtpeoplethanhedoes.
ExceptNoah,mysubconsciousremindsme,andIpushherback.
“Well,Ithinkthebonfirewillbefun,”Isay.
Zedlooksatmewithinterest.“MaybeIwillmakeanappearanceafterall.”
“I’mgoing,”Hardinaddsrandomlyfromtheotherbooth.
Everyoneturnstolook athim,andMollylaughs.“Yeah, sureyouare.”She
rollshereyesandlaughsagain.
“No, really, it won’t be so bad,” Hardin softly insists, earning another eye-
rollingfromMolly.
Hardin going because Zed said he was? Maybe I’m a better flirt than I
thought.
Theserverbringsoutourfoodandhandsmemyburger.Itlooksgreat,except
for the ketchup dripping offthe side. My nose scrunches up and I try to wipe
someofitoffwithanapkin.Ihatesendingfoodback,andI’malreadyhavinga
hardenoughtimetonight.ThelastthingIneedistodrawevenmoreattentionto
myself.
Talk of the party tonight circles the booths while everyone digs into their
wings and I pick at my fries. Eventually the server stops back and asks if we
needanythingelse.
“No,Ithinkwe’regood,”Tristanstartstosay,andshebeginstowalkaway.
“Wait. She ordered her burger with no ketchup,” Hardin says loudly, and I
dropafryontotheplate.
Thewaitresslooksatmewithconcern.“I’msorryaboutthat.Doyouwantme
totakeitback?”
I’msoembarrassed,allIcandoisshakemyhead.
“Yeah.Shedoes,”Hardinanswersforme.
Whatthehellishedoing?Andhowdidheevenknowithadketchup?Heis
justtryingtomakemeuncomfortable.
“Here,honey, give me yourplate.” Shesmiles and holdsher handout. “I’ll
bringyouanewone.”IhandittoherandlookdownwhileIthankher.
“What was that?” I hear Molly ask Hardin. She should really work on her
whisperingvoice.
“Nothing, she doesn’t like ketchup,” he simply says and she huffs before
takingadrinkofherbeer.
“So?”MollysaysandHardinglaresather.
“So,nothing.Justdropit.”
AtleastIknowIamnottheonlyoneheisrudeto.
My new food sans ketchup arrives, and I eat most of it despite my lack of
appetite.Zedendsuppayingformymeal,whichisbothniceandawkwardat
thesametime.Hardin’sannoyance seems togrowas Zed putshisarmaround
meyetagainonthewalkoutside.
“Logansaysthepartyisalreadypacked!”Natesays,readingatext.
“You should ride with me there,” Zed offers, then frowns when I shake my
head.
“Oh,Iamnotgoingtotheparty.Tristanisgoingtotakemeback.”
“IcantakeherbacktoherroomsinceIdrove,”Hardinsays.
Ialmosttripovermyfeetatthis,butfortunatelyStephgrabsholdofmeand
smilesatHardin.“No,TristanandIwilltakeher.Zedcanridewithus,too.”
Iflookscouldkill,Stephwouldbecollapsingonthefloorrightnow.
HardinturnstoTristan.“Youdon’twanttodrivedrunkoncampus;thepolice
aregoingtobelookingforpeopletogiveticketstobecauseit’sFriday.”
Stephlooksatme,waitingformetospeakup,butIdon’tknowwhattosay.I
don’t want to be in the car with Hardin alone, but I don’t want to drive with
Tristanwhenhehasbeendrinking.Ishrugand leanintoZedwhiletheysettle
thisamongthemselves.
“Great,let’sdropheroffandthengohavesomefun,”MollytellsHardin,but
heshakeshishead.
“No,youridewithTristanandSteph,”hesaysforcefullyandMollyshrinks.
“ForGod’ssakecanwejustgetinthecarsandgo!”Natewhinesandpullshis
keysout.
“Yeah,let’sgo,Tessa,”HardinsaysandIlookupatZedandthenatSteph.
“Tessa!”Hardinbarksagainasheunlockshiscardoor.Helooksbackatme
andIgetthefeelingthatifIdon’tfollowhewilldragmetothecar.Butwhy
wouldheevenwanttobearoundmeifhetoldStephthatIhadbetternotcome
around?Hedisappearsinsidethecarandstartstheengine.
“It’llbeokay,justtextmeassoonasyougetbacktotheroom,”Stephsays,
andInodandwalktoHardin’scar.Mycuriositygetsthebestofme,andIhave
toknowwhathisintentionsare.Ijusthaveto.
chapterforty
NomatterhowhardItriedtoavoidseeinghimallweek,Isomehowendupin
hiscarwithhim.Hedoesn’tlookatmeasIgetinorwhileIbucklemyseatbelt.
Itugatthedressagain,tryingtopullitovermythighs.Wesitinsilencefora
moment and then he pulls out of the parking lot. One saving grace is his not
allowingMollytoridewithus—Iwouldhaveratherwalkedhomethanwatch
herfawnalloverhim.
“What’swiththenewlook?”hefinallyasksoncewe’reonthefreeway.
“Um...well,Stephwantedtotrysomethingnewwithme,Iguess.”Ikeep
my eyes fixed on the buildings passing by outside the window. His usual
aggressivemusicisplayingquietlythroughthecar.
“It’salittleover-the-top,don’tyouthink?”heasksandIballmyfistsonmy
lap.Sothisishisplantoday,toinsultmethewholewaybacktomyroom.
“Youdidn’thaveto drive mehome, you know.” Ilean my headagainst the
window,tryingtocreateasmuchspacebetweenusaspossible.
“Don’t get so defensive; all I am saying is your little makeover is a little
extreme.”
“Well,goodthingIdon’tcarewhatyouthink,butconsideringyourdistaste
formyusualappearance,I’msurprisedyoudon’tthinkIlookbetterlikethis,”I
snapandclosemyeyes.Iamalreadyexhaustedfrombeingaroundhimandheis
suckingthelittlebitofenergythatremainedfromme.
Ihearhimchucklequietlyandheturnstheradiooffcompletely.“Ineversaid
therewasanythingwrongwithyourappearance.Yourclothes,yes,butI’dmuch
ratherseethehideouslongskirtsthantheseclothes.”
He’stryingtoexplainbuthisanswerdoesn’treallymakesense.Heseemsto
likewhenMollydressesthisway,onlymuchskankier,sowhynotme?
“Didyouhearme,Tessa?”heaskswhenIdon’trespond,andIfeelhishand
touchmythigh.Ijerkawayfromhistouchandopenmyeyes.
“Yes,Idid.Ijustdon’thaveanythingtosayaboutit.Ifyoudon’tliketheway
I’mdressed,thendon’tlookatme.”Onegoodthingthatcomesfromtalkingto
Hardin is that for once in my life I can say exactly what comes to my mind
withoutworryingabouthurtinghisfeelings,seeingashowhehasnone.
“Thatispreciselytheproblemhere,isn’tit?ThatIcan’tstoplookingatyou.”
The words leave his mouth and I consider opening the car door and hurling
myselfontothefreeway.
“Oh!Please!”Ilaugh.Iknowhewillsayjustenoughnice,yetcryptic,things
tomakeitmorepainfulwhenhetakesthembackandthrowsmoreinsultsatme
later.
“What? It’s true. I approve of the new clothes, but you don’t need all this
makeup.Regulargirlsweartonsofmakeuptolookasgoodasyoudowithout
it.”
What?Hemusthaveforgottenthatwearen’tspeaking,thathetriedtoruinmy
lifelessthanaweekago,andthatwedespiseeachother.
“Youdon’texpectmetothankyou,doyou?”Ihalf-laugh.Heissoconfusing;
heisbroodingandangryoneminuteandtellingmehecan’tstoplookingatme
thenext.
“Whydidn’tyoutellthemthetruthaboutLandonandme?”heasks,changing
thesubject.
“Becauseyouobviouslydidn’twantthemtoknow.”
“Still,whywouldyoukeepmysecrets?”
“Becausetheyarenotminetotell.”
Helooks over to me with hooded eyesand aslight smile. “I wouldn’thave
blamedyouifyoudid,consideringwhatIdidwithNoah.”
“Yeah,well,Iamnotyou.”
“No, no you’re not,” he says, his voice much quieter. And after that he
remainssilentfortherestofthedrive,asdoI.Ihavenothingtosaytohim.
Wefinally pull onto campusand he parks in the farthest possible spot from
myroom.Ofcourse.
IreachforthedoorhandleandHardin’shandtouchesmythighagain.“You’re
notgoingtothankme?”HesmilesandIshakemyhead.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say sarcastically. “Hurry back—Molly’s waiting,” I
addasIclimbout.Ihopehedidn’thearme;IamnotsurewhyIevensaidthat.
“Yeah...Ibetter.Shesureisfunwhenshe’sdrunk,”hesayswithasmirk.
Trying to hide the fact that I feellike he just punched mein the stomach, I
lean down to look at him through the passenger window and Hardin rolls it
down.“Yeah,Iamsuresheis.Noah’scomingsoon,anyway,”Ilieandwatchhis
eyesnarrow.
“Heis?”Hardinpicksathisfingernails,anervoushabit,Iassume.
“Yep,seeyouaround.”Ismileandwalkoff.
I hear him get out of his car and shut the door. “Wait!” he says and I turn
around. “I . . . never mind, I thought you, um, dropped something but you
didn’t.”Hischeeksflush. He’s clearly lying, andI want to know what he was
goingtosay,butIneedtowalkawaynow,soIdojustthat.
“Bye,Hardin.”ThewordsmeanmorethanIleton.Idon’tlookbacktoseeif
heiscomingaftermebecauseIknowheisn’t.
ITAKETHEHEELSOFFbeforeIevengettomyroomandwalkbarefootthe
restofthewaythroughcampus.ThesecondIgetintotheroomIputmyfuzzy
pajamasbackonandcallNoah.Heanswersonthesecondring.
“Hey,”Isqueak.Myvoicesoundstoohigh-pitched.It’sonlyNoah,whyamI
sonervous?
“Hey,Tessa,howwasyourdaytoday?”heaskssoftly.Hedoesn’tsoundlike
thesamedistantNoahthatI’vegottenallweek.Isighinrelief.
“Itwasokay,actually,Iamjusthangingoutinmyroomtonight.Whatareyou
doing?” I purposely leave out my dinner with Steph and everyone, including
Hardin.Thatwillnothelpmy“pleaseforgiveme”campaign.
“Ijustgotoutofpractice.I’mthinkingI’llstudytonightbecauseI’mhelping
thenewneighborscutatreedowntomorrow.”
Heisalwayshelpingeveryone.Heistoogoodforme.
“I’mjuststudyingtonight,too.”
“Iwishwecouldstudytogether,”hesays,andIsmilewhilepickingatthetiny
lintballsonmyfuzzysocks.
“Youdo?”
“Yeah,ofcourse,Tessa.IstillloveyouandImissyou.ButIhavetoknow
thatnothinglikethiswilleverhappenagain.I’mwillingtotrytoputthispastus,
butyouhavetopromisemeyouwillstayawayfromhim,”hesays.Hedoesn’t
havetosayhisname.
“OfcourseIwill,Iswear—Iloveyou!”PartofmeknowsthatIamdesperate
tohaveNoahforgivemeonlybecauseIdon’twanttobecompletelyaloneand
fawningoverHardin,butIignoreit.
Afterexchangingmore“Iloveyou’s”withNoah,heagreestoaccompanyme
to the bonfire next weekend and we get off the phone. I look online for the
closestcardealershipstocampus,andluckyformethereappearstobeagood
number of used-car lots ready to rip off college students. After noting the
addressesofafew,IdigthroughSteph’smakeupbagandfinallyfindthewipes
to remove all my makeup. It takes forever, and this obnoxious process alone
makesmeneverwanttowearitagain,regardlessofhowgooditlooked.
chapterforty-one
Itake outmy notesand textbooksand diveinto mystudies. Iam workingon
next week’s assignments. I like to stay ahead one week at least so there is no
chanceIfallbehind.ButmythoughtsdrifttoHardinandhismoodiness,soI’m
notreallypayingattentiontotheessayI’msupposedtobewriting.Ithasbeen
onlytwohourssinceIgotoffthephonewithNoah,butitseemslikefour.
IdecidetofindamovieandlieinbeduntilIfallasleep,settlingonTheVow
despitethefactthatIhaveseenitnumeroustimes.Lessthantenminutesintothe
movieIhearsomeone cursing outsideinthehall.I turn thevolumeupon my
laptopandignorethecursing;it’sFriday,whichmeansdrunkpeoplealloverthe
dormstonight.Afewminuteslater,Ihearthecursingagain—amalevoice,then
afemalevoicejoinsin.Theguyshoutslouder,andthenIrecognizetheaccent.
It’sHardin.
Ijump offmy bedand swingopen thedoor to find him sittingon thefloor
withhisbackagainstthewalloutsidemyroom.Anangrygirlwithbleach-blond
hairisstandingoverhim,scowlingwithherhandsonherhips.
“Hardin?”Isay,andhelooksup.
Ahugegrinsslidesoverhisface.“Theresa...”hesaysandbeginstostand.
“Can you please tell your boyfriend to get away from my door—he spilled
vodkaalloverthefloor!”thegirlyells.
IlookatHardin.“He’snotmy...”Istarttosay,butHardingrabsmyhand
andpullsmetowardmydoor.
“Sorryforthespill,”hesaysandrollshiseyesattheblonde.Shehuffsand
stormsintoherroom,slammingherdoor.
“Whatareyoudoinghere,Hardin?”Iaskhim.Hetriestowalkpastmeand
intomyroombutIblocktheentrance.
“Whycan’tIcomein,Tessa?Iwillbenicetoyourgrandpa.”HelaughsandI
rollmyeyes.IknowheismakingfunofNoah.
“Heisn’there.”
“Whynot?Okay,soletmeinthen,”hesays,slurringhiswords.
“No,areyoudrunk?”Myeyesscanhisface.Hiseyesarered,andhissmirk
givesitallaway.Hetakeshislipbetweenhisteethandputshishandsintohis
pockets.
“Ithoughtyoudidn’tdrink,butnowyouhavebeendrinkingalot.”
“It’sonlybeentwice.Chillout,”hesays,andpushespastmeandflopsdown
onmybed.“Sowhydidn’tNoahcome?”
“Idon’tknow,”Ilie.
He nods several times, like he’s considering this seriously. “Sure. The Gap
probably had a sale on cardigans, so he canceled on you.” He bursts out
laughing,andtheenergyintheroomissuchthatIcan’thelpbutjoinhim.
“SowhereisMolly?”Iask.“AtaSkanks‘R’Ussale?”
Hardinstopsforasecondandthenlaughsharder.“Thatwasaterribleattempt
atacomeback,Theresa,”hejokes,andIkickmyfootatwherehisshinsdangle
overthebed.
“Eitherway,youcan’tstayhere.NoahandIarebacktogether,officially.”
I notice his smile fade and he rubs his hands against his knees. “Nice
pajamas,”hesays,andIlookdown.
Whyishebeingsocavalier?Wehaven’tresolvedanything,andthelasttimeI
checkedwewerebothstayingawayfromeachother.
“Hardin,youhavetogo.”
“Letmeguess:oneofNoah’sconditionsforreconciliationwasthatyouhave
tostayawayfromme?”Histoneismoreseriousnow.
“Yeah,andthelasttimeIcheckedyouandIweren’tfriendsorevenspeaking.
WhydidyoudropLiteratureandwhydidyouhitLandon?”
“Whydoyoualwaysasksomanyquestions?”hewhines.“Idon’twanttotalk
aboutanyofthat!WhatwereyouandyourcoolpajamasdoingbeforeIcamein
—andwhy is yourlight off?”Hardin is muchmore playful whenhe hasbeen
drinkingbutIambeginningtowonderwhyhe’sbegundrinkingwhenhedidn’t
before.
“Iwaswatchingamovie,”Itellhim;maybeifIamnicetohimhewillanswer
someofmyquestions.
“Whatmovie?”
“TheVow,”Ianswerandlookathim.Iexpecthimtolaughatmeandaftera
fewsecondshedoes.
“Youwouldlikethatsappymovie.Thatissounrealistic.”
“It’sbasedonatruestory,”Icorrecthim.
“Itstillseemsstupid.”
“Haveyouevenseenit?”Iaskhim,andheshakeshishead.
“Idon’thavetoseeittoknowit’sstupid.Icantellyouhowitendsrightnow:
shegetshermemorybackandtheylivehappilyeverafter,”hesaysinahigh-
pitchedvoice.
“No,actuallythatisn’thowitends,”Ilaugh.Hardinmakesmeinsanemostof
the time, but it’s the rare occasions like this when he makes me forget how
terriblehecanbe.IforgetthatIamsupposedtohatehimandinsteadfindmyself
tossingoneofSteph’spillowsathim.Heletsithithim,eventhoughhecould
easily block it, and then yelps as if he is actually wounded, so we both laugh
again.
“Letmestayandwatchitwithyou,”hehalf-asks,half-demands.
“Idon’tthinkthatisagoodidea,”Itellhimandheshrugs.
“Theworstideasareoftenthebestideas.Besides,youwouldn’twantmeto
drivebackdrunk,wouldyou?”Hesmiles,andIcan’tresisteventhoughIknow
Ishould.
“Fine,butyouaresittingonthefloororSteph’sbed.”
HepoutsbutIholdmyground.Godknowswhatwillhappenifweareboth
onmysmallbed.Iflushatthepossibilitiesandthenscoldmyselfforthinking
thatwaywhenIjustpromisedNoahIwouldstayawayfromHardin.Itsounds
like such a simple promise to make, but somehow I always find my way to
Hardin.Or,liketonight,hefindshiswaytome.
Hardin slides down to the floor and I take a moment to admire how hot he
looks in a plain white T-shirt. The contrast of his black ink and white shirt is
perfectandIlovethewaytheivybranchesalongthebottomofhisneckpeak
outfromunderthecollarandtheblackinkcanbeseenunderthematerial.
Ipressplayandimmediatelyheasks,“Gotanypopcorn?”
“No,youshouldhavebroughtyourown,”Iteaseandturnthescreensohecan
seeitbetterfromthefloor.
“Icouldalwaysgoforanothertypeofsnack,”hesaysandIsmackhishead
lightheartedly.
“Watchthemovie,andnomoretalking,orI’llkickyouout.”
Hardinpretendstoziphislipsandhandmeakey,whichmakesmegiggleasI
pretendtotossitbehindme.AsHardinlayshisheadbackagainstthebed,Ifeel
morecalmandatpeacethanIhaveallweek.
Hardinwatchesmemorethanthemovie,butIdon’tcare.Inoticethewayhe
smileswhenIlaughatafunnyline,thewayhefrownswhenIsoboverPaige
losinghermemory,andthewayhetoosighswithreliefwhenPaigeandLeoend
uptogetheragainintheend.
“Sowhatdidyouthink?”IaskhimasIscrollthroughtofindanothermovie.
“Utterrubbish.”Buthesmiles,andIrufflemyhandthroughhishairbeforeI
realizewhatI’mdoing.Isitmyselfupandheturnstowardthewall.
Waytomakeitawkward,Tessa.
“Letmechoosethenextmovie,”hesaysandreachesformylaptop.
“Whosaidyoucouldstayforanother?”Iaskandherollshiseyes.
“Can’tdrive.Stilldrunk,”hesayswithamischievousgrin.
Iknowheislying.He’smostlysoberedup,buthe’sright.Heshouldstay.I
willdealwithwhateverHardindecidestodotometomorrow,justtobeableto
spendtimewithhim.Ireallyampathetic,justlikehesaid.Andatthemoment,I
don’tcare.
Iwanttoaskhimwhyhecamehereandwhyheisn’tathisownfratparty,but
IdecidetowaituntilthemovieisoverbecauseIknowhewillturnsouronceI
begintoquestionhim.HardinchoosessomeBatmanfilmthatIhaven’tseenand
swearsit is the best movieof alltime. I laughat hisenthusiasm as he tries to
explainthepreviousmoviesinthetrilogy,butIhavenoideawhatheistalking
about.NoahandIalwayswatchmoviestogether,butIhaveneverenjoyeditas
muchasIdowithHardin.Noahstaresatthescreeninsilence,whereasHardin
bantersalong,addinghilarioussarcasticentertainment.
“My ass is numb from your hard floor,” Hardin complains as soon as the
moviebegins.
“Steph’sbedisniceandsoft,”Isay,andhefrowns.
“Iwon’tbeabletoseethescreenfromoverthere.Comeon,Tessa,Iwillkeep
myhandstomyself.”
“Fine,”Igroanandscootover.
He smiles and lies next to me on his stomach mimicking me, bending his
kneesandputtinghisfeetintheair.Hardinlayshisheadonhisfoldedhands,
which takes away all his rough edges and leaves him looking adorable. The
movie is much better than I expected, and I must’ve been more into it than
Hardin,becausewhenthecreditsrollandIlookoverathim,he’sfastasleep.
Helookssoperfect,sopeacefulinhissleep.Ilovethewayhiseyelidsflutter
andthewayhischestmovesupanddownandthelovelysighthatleaveshisfull
lips.Iwanttoreachoverandtouchhisface,butIdon’t.DespitethefactthatI
shouldwakehimandmakehimleave,Icoverhimwithmyblanketandgolock
the door before lying down on Steph’s bed. I glance over at him again and
admirethewaythedimlightfromthetelevisionilluminateshisface.Helooks
youngerandmuchhappierinhissleep.
AsIdrifttosleep,IrealizethatI’vespentthenightwithHardinacoupleof
times now, and never with Noah. My subconscious helpfully reminds me that
I’vedonealotofthingswithHardinthatI’veneverdonewithNoah.
chapterforty-two
Thefaintsoundofbuzzingfloatsthroughmydreaminasteadypattern.Why
won’t it stop? I roll over, not wanting to wake up, but the obnoxious sound
insiststhatIdo.I’mdisoriented,andforgetwhereIam.AndthenwhenIrealize
I’minSteph’sbed,IstillalmostforgetHardinisinmyroom.
How do we always end up together? And more important, where is that
annoying noise coming from? In the dim light provided by streetlights just
outsidethewindow,IfollowthenoiseanditleadstoHardin’spocket.Ifeelasif
thenoiseiscallingtomeinmydreamystate.Idebatewhetherornottoreach
intohispocket,myeyesfocusedontheimprintofthephoneinthefrontpocket
ofhistightjeans.ItstopsasIreachmybedsoIstealanotheropportunitytotake
in how peaceful Hardin looks in his sleep. There is no soft crinkle in his
foreheadfromhisconstantfrowning,andthereisnopursetohispinklips.Isigh
andturnaroundonlytohavethebuzzingstartagain.I’mjustgoingtograbit,he
won’twakeup.IdipmyhanddownandstruggletoreachintoHardin’spocket.
If his pants weren’t so tight, I would be able to pull the phone from his
pocket...butIhavenosuchluck.
“Whatareyoudoing?”hegroans.
Ijoltafewfeetawayfrommybed.“Yourphoneisgoingoffanditwokeme
up,”Iwhisper,despitethefactthatwearetheonlypeopleintheroom.
Iwatchsilentlyashedigsintohispocket,hislargehandstrugglingtopullout
hisphone.“What?”Hesnapsintothemouthpiecewhenhedoesgetitout,only
toswipehishandoverhisforeheadatwhateverresponsehereceived.
“Iamnotcomingbacktheretonight.Iamatafriend’shouse.”
Arewefriends?Ofcoursenot,I’mjustaconvenientexcuseforwhyheisn’t
returningtotheparty.Istandawkwardlyandshiftmyweightfromonelegtothe
other.
“No,youcan’tgointomyroom.Youknowthis.I’mgoingbacktosleepnow,
sodon’twake me up again. And my door is locked, so don’twasteyour time
trying.”Hehangsup,andIinstinctivelybackaway.Hisbadmoodispalpable,
andIdon’twanttobeonthereceivingendofhisvenom.IcrawlontoSteph’s
bedandpulltheblankettome.
“Sorrythatmyphonewokeyou,”hesaysquietly.“ItwasMolly.”
“Oh.”Isighandliedownonmyside,facingmybedacrosstheroom.Hardin
givesmeasmallsmile,asifheknowswhatI’mthinkingaboutMolly.Ican’t
ignorethesmallbubbleofexcitementthatcomesfromhimbeinghereinsteadof
withMolly,eventhoughhisactionsmakenosensetome.
“Youdon’tlikeher,doyou?”Herollsfullyontohisside,hishairmessyand
everywhereonmypillow.
I shake my head. “Not really, but please don’t tell her. I don’t want any
drama,”I beg.I knowI can’ttrust him, but hopefully he will forgetto stirup
controversywiththisinformation.
“Iwon’t.Idon’tcareforher,either,”hemurmurs.
“Yeah, you really seem to dislike her,” I say just as sarcastically as I can
manage.
“I don’t. I mean, she is fun and all, but she is quite annoying,” he admits,
makingthatbubblegrowalittlemore.
“Well, maybe you should stop messing around with her,” I suggest and roll
ontomybacksohecan’tseemyface.
“IsthereareasonIshouldn’tmessaroundwithher?”
“No.Imean,ifyouthinksheisannoying,thenwhykeepdoingit?”IknowI
don’twanttheanswertothis,butcan’thelpit.
“Tokeepmeoccupied,Iguess.”
Iclosemyeyesandtakeadeepbreath.TalkingaboutHardinmessingaround
withMollyhurtsmeworsethanitshould.
Hissmoothvoiceinterruptsmyjealousthoughts.“Comeliewithme.”
“No.”
“Comeon,justliewithme.Isleepbetterwhenyou’renearme,”hesayslike
it’saconfession.
I sit up and look at him. “What?” I can’t hide my surprise at his words.
Whetherhemeansthemornot,theymakemyinsidesmelt.
“Isleepbetterwhenyou’rewithme.”Hebreakseyecontactandlooksdown.
“LastweekendIsleptbetterthanIhaveinawhile.”
“Itwasprobablythescotch,notme.”Itrytomakelightofhisconfession.I
don’tknowwhatelsetodoorsay.
“No,itwasyou.”
“Goodnight,Hardin.”Iturnover.IfhekeepssayingthesethingsandIkeep
listening,Iwillbeputtyinhishandsyetagain.
“Whydon’tyoubelieveme?”healmostwhispers.
“Becauseyoualwaysdothis:yousayafewnicethingsandthenyouflipthe
switchandIendupcrying.”
“Imakeyoucry?”
Howdoesn’theknowthat?HehasseenmecrymorethananyoneelseIknow.
“Yeah,often,”Isay,grippingSteph’sblankettight.
IhearhisbedsqueaklightlyandIclosemyeyes,outoffear,outofsomething
else,too.Hardin’sfingersgrazemyarmashesits ontheedgeofSteph’sbed,
andItellmyselfit’stoolate—well,early—forthisat4a.m.
“Idon’tmeantomakeyoucry.”
I open my eyes and look up at him. “Yes. Yes, you do. That’s your exact
intentioneverytimeyousayhurtfulthingstome.Andwhenyouforcedmeto
tellNoahaboutus.AndwhenyouhumiliatedmeinyourbedlastweekbecauseI
couldn’t say exactly what you wanted me to. Tonight you tell me you sleep
betterwhenIamaround,butifIwastoliewithyou,thesecondwewokeupyou
wouldjusttellmeIamugly,orthatyoucan’tstandme.Afterwewenttothe
stream,Ithoughtthat...nevermind.ThereareonlysomanytimesIcanhave
thistalkwithyou.”Itakeinacoupleofdeepbreaths,panickedatmyunloading
onhim.
“I’mlisteningthistime.”Hiseyesareunreadable,buttheymakemewantto
continue.
“Ijustdon’tknowwhyyoulovethiscat-and-mousegameyouplaywithme
so much. You’re nice, then mean. You tell Steph you’ll ‘ruin’ me if I come
aroundyou,thenyouwanttodrivemehome.Youarejustallovertheplace.”
“Ididn’tmeanthat.ThatIwouldruinyou,Ijust...Idon’tknow.Ijustsay
thingssometimes,”hesays,runninghishandsthroughhishair.
“WhydidyoudropLiterature?”Ifinallyask.
“Becauseyouwantmetostayawayfromyou,andIneedtostayawayfrom
you.”
“Sowhydon’tyou,then?”Iamslightlyawareoftheshiftinenergyaround
us.Somehowwehavemovedcloser,ourbodiesonlyinchesapart.
“Idon’tknow,”hehuffs.Herubshishandstogether,thenreststhemonhis
knees.
Iwanttosaysomething—anything—butIcan’twithouttellingHardinthatI
don’twanthimtostayaway,thatIthinkabouthimeverysecondofeveryday.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “Can I ask you something and you will be
completelyhonest?”
Inod.
“Didyou...didyoumissmethisweek?”
ThatwasthelastthingIexpectedhimtoaskme.Iblinkafewtimestoclear
myfranticmind.ItoldhimIwouldanswertruthfully,butI’mafraidto.
“Well?”
“Yeah,”Imumbleandhidemyfaceinmyhands,onlytohavehimpullthem
away,histouchonmywristssettingfiretomyskin.
“Yeah,what?”Hisvoiceisstrained,likeheisdesperateformyanswer.
“Imissedyou,”Igulp,expectingtheworst.
WhatIdidnotexpectishissighofrelief,andthesmilethatstretchesacross
his beautiful face. I want to ask him if he missed me, but he begins to speak
beforeIgetthechance.
“Really?”heasks,almostlikehedoesn’tbelieveme.
I nod in reply and he gives me a shy smile. Hardin shy? More likely he’s
pleased by my admittance because it tells him he has me wrapped around his
finger.
“NowcanIgobacktosleep?”Iwhine.Iknowheisn’tgoingtoreciprocate
myconfessionwithoneofhisown,anditisreallylate.
“Onlyifyousleepwithme.Asin,inthesamebed,ofcourse.”Hesmiles.
I sigh and mumble, “Oh, Hardin, can we just go to sleep?” as I roll over,
careful not to touch him. But a sudden yank on my legs makes me yelp in
surprise,andIquicklyfindHardinliftingmeoffthebedandthrowingmeover
hisshoulder.Heignoresmykickingandpleastoputmedownuntilhereaches
mybed,restsonekneeonit,andlaysmedowngentlyonthesideagainstthe
wallbeforelyingdownnexttome.Iglareathimsilently,afraidthatifIfight
himtoohardhe’llleave,whichIknowIdon’twant.
He reaches down and picks up the pillow that I tossed at him earlier and
placesitbetweenusasabarrierwithasmirkonhisface.“There,nowyoucan
sleep,safeandsecure.”
Ismilebackathim.Ican’thelpit.“Goodnight,”Ihalf-giggle.
“Night,Tessa.”HelaughsbackandIrolloveronmyside.
ButsuddenlyI’mnotanywhereneartired,soIjuststareatthewall,hoping
thiselectricitywilldissipateandIcansleep.Well,half-hoping.
A few minutes later I feel the pillow move and then Hardin’s arm wraps
aroundmywaistandhepullsmetohischest.Idon’tmoveitorcallattentionto
hisactions.Iamenjoyingthefeelingtoomuch.
“I missed you, too,” he whispers against my hair. I smile knowing that he
can’tseeme.Ifeelthelightpressureofhislipsagainstthebackofmyheadand
mystomachflips.AsmuchasIloveit,IamleftmoreconfusedthaneverasI
driftofftosleep.
chapterforty-three
MyalarmgoesofftooearlyandIrollover.Iliftmyhand,smackingatittostop
thehideousbeepingassaultingmyears.Myhandsmacksagainstasoft, warm
surface,andIblinkmyeyesopentofindHardinstaringdownatme.Ireachfor
mypillowtocovermyembarrassmentbutHardinyanksitaway.
“Goodmorningtoyou,too,”hesayswithasmile,rubbingathisarm.
Istareback,workinganapologyinmymind.Howlonghasbebeenwatching
me?
“You’recutewhenyou’reasleep,”heteasesandIsitupasquickasIcan,sure
Ilookfairlyhideous,likeusualinthemorning.
Hehandsmemyphone.“What’sthealarmfor?”
Iswitchitoffandclimboffthebed.“I’mgoingtolookforacartoday,soyou
canleavewhenever,”Itellhimandhefrowns.
“You’reobviouslynotamorningperson.”
Ipullmyhairbackintoatail,inanefforttokeepitfromlookinglikeabird’s
nest.“Iam...Ijustdon’twanttokeepyou.”Ifeelalittleguiltyforbeingrude,
butIhadexpectedhimtoberudehimself,tobehonest.
“You’renot.CanIcomewithyou?”
Isearcharoundmyroom,wonderingifIheardhimcorrectly.FinallyIturnto
himwithsuspicioninmyeyes.“Tolookatacar?Whywouldyouwanttodo
that?”
“Why do I have to have a reason? You act like I’m plotting to kill you or
something.”Helaughsandstandsup,rufflinghishair.
“Well,I’mjustalittletaken aback by yourcheerfulmoodthismorning...
and you wanting to go somewhere with me . . . and you not insulting me,” I
admit.
Iturnawayfromhimandgathermyclothesandbathroomkit.Ineedtotakea
showerbeforeIgoanywhere.
Unfazedbymyhonesty,Hardinpressessomemore.“It’llbefun,Ipromise.
Justletmeshowyouthatwecould...thatIcouldbenice.It’sjustoneday.”
Hissmileisbeautifulandconvincing.ButNoahwillsurelybreakupwithme
andneverspeaktomeagainifheknowsthatHardinstayedthenightwithme,in
mybed,holdingmeasweslept.Idon’tknowwhatitisthatkeepsmeconstantly
afraidoflosingNoah;maybeit’smyfearofmymother’sreactionifwebroke
up,ormaybethatmyoldselfissotiedtoNoah.Hehasalwaysbeentherefor
me,andIfeellikeIoweittomyselfandhimtocontinueourrelationship.ButI
thinkthebiggestreasonisthatIknowHardincan’tandwon’tgivemethetype
ofrelationshipIneedandhonestlywantfromhim.
While I am lost in my thoughts it finally seems okay for me to admit that
listeningtoHardin’ssteadybreathinginmyearwhilehesleptwasworthnever
speakingtoNoahagain.
“EarthtoTessa!”HardincallsfromacrosstheroomandIsnapto.Ihavebeen
frozen standing here debating with myself and completely forgot Hardin was
eveninmyroom.
“Issomethingwrong?”heasksandstepstowardme.
Oh,nothing,justthatIamfinallyadmittingtomyselfthatIhavefeelingsfor
you and want more from you, yet know you will never care about anyone,
especiallyme.
“Justtryingtofigureoutwhattowear,”Ilie.
Hiseyesmovedowntotheclothesinmyhands,andhetiltshisheadbutonly
says,“So,canIcome?Itwillbeeasierforyou,anyway—soyoudon’thaveto
takethebus.”
Well,itmightbefun.Anditwouldbeeasier.“Yeah,okay,”Isay.“Justletme
getready.”Iwalktowardthedoorandhefollowsme.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iaskhim.
“Comingwithyou.”
“Um,I’mgoingtotakeashower.”Idanglemytoiletrybaginfrontofhimand
hesnatchesitfromme.
“Whatacoincidence—me,too!”
Damncoedbathrooms.Hewalkspastmeandopensthedoorwithoutlooking
back.Irushtocatchupwithhimandgrabholdofhisshirt.
“Niceofyoutojoinme,”hejokesandIrollmyeyes.
“We haven’t even begun the day and you’re already annoying me,” I tease
back.
Agroupofgirlswalksbyusandintothebathrooms;theydon’teventrytobe
subtleaboutstaringatHardin.
“Ladies,” Hardin greets them, and they giggle like schoolgirls. Well,
technicallytheyareschoolgirls,buttheyarealsoadults,sotheyshouldactlike
it.
chapterforty-four
After a stop to use the toilet, I come out and don’t see or hear Hardin in the
showers,somymindofcoursestartsworryingthathewentoffsomewherewith
thosegirls.Hedidn’tevenbringanyclotheswithhim,soifhedoesshower,he
would just be putting on dirty clothes. Hardin could wear clothes matted with
mudandstilllookbetterthananyguyIhaveeverseen.ExceptNoah,Iremind
myself.
Afteraquickshower,Idryoffandpullmyclothesonandmakemywayback
to my room, where I’m relieved to find Hardin sitting on my bed. Take that,
schoolgirls,partofmeyells.Heisshirtlessandthewaterhasmadehisdarkhair
blackeryet.Iclosemymouthtomakesuremytongueisn’thangingout.
“Tookyoulongenough,”hesaysandleansback.Hismusclesconstrictashe
liftshisarmsbehindhisheadtobracehimagainstthewall.
“You’resupposedtobenicetome,remember,”IsayandwalkovertoSteph’s
closetandopenthedoortousethemirror.GrabbingSteph’smakeupbag,Isit
myselfdownandcrossmylegsinfrontofit.
“Thisismebeingnice.”
IstayquietasItrytoapplyalittlemakeup.Afterthreeattemptsofmakinga
straight line on my top eyelid, I chuck the eyeliner at the mirror and Hardin
laughs.
“Youdon’tneedthat,anyway,”hetellsme.
“Ilikeit,”Isay,andherollshiseyes.
“Fine, we can just sit here all day while you try to color on your face,” he
says.SomuchforniceHardin.
Hecatcheshimselfandgivesmeaquick,“Sorry,sorry,”whileIwipemyeyes
off.ButIgiveupthemakeuproutine.It’salittlehardtodowithsomeonelike
Hardinwatchingme.
“I’mready,”Itellhimandhejumpsup.“Areyougoingtoputashirton?”I
askhim.
“Yeah,Ihaveoneinmytrunk.”
I was right: he must have an endless supply in there. I don’t want to think
aboutthereasonsbehindthat.
TRUETOHISWORD,Hardinpullsa plainblackT-shirtoutofhistrunkand
finishesgettingdressedintheparkinglot.
“Stopstaringandgetinthecar,”heteasesme.Istutteradenialandoblige.
“Ilikeyouinthewhiteshirts,”Isaywhenwe’rebothinside,thewordsjust
poppingoutbeforeIcanprocessthem.
Cockinghisheadsideways,hegivesmeasmuggrin.“Isthatso?”Heraises
his eyebrow. “Well, I like you in those jeans. They show off your ass
wonderfully,”hesaysandmymouthdrops.Hardinandhisdirtywords.
Iswatathimplayfullyandhelaughs,butImentallypatmyselfontheback
forwearingthesepants.IwantHardintolookatmeeventhoughIwouldnever
admitit,andIamflatteredbyhisstrangewayofcomplimentingme.
“Sowhereto?”heasks,andIpulloutmyphone.Ireadhimthelistofused-
cardealerswithinafive-mileradiusandtellhimaboutafewofthereviewson
each.
“Youplanthingswaytoomuch.Wearen’tgoingtoanyofthoseplaces.”
“Yes,weare.Ialreadyhavethisplanned;thereisaPriusthatIwanttoseeat
Bob’sSuperCars,”Itellhimandcringeatthecheesyname.
“APrius?”hesaysindisgust.
“Yeah?Theyhavethebestgasmileageandtheyaresafeand—”
“Boring. I knew somehow you would want a Prius. You just scream, ‘Lady
withaplannerinherPrius!’ ”hesaysinafakewoman’svoiceandthencackles.
“TeasemeallyouwantbutIwillsavehundredsongaseveryyear,”Iremind
him, laughing, when he leans over and pokes my cheek. I look over at him,
shockedbyhisdoingsuchasmallbutadorablething;helooksassurprisedat
whathedidasIdo.
“You’recutesometimes,”hetellsme.
Ilookforwardagain.“Gee,thanks.”
“Imean that ina niceway, likesometimes you docute things,” hemutters.
ThewordsseemuncomfortableonhistongueandIknowheisn’tusedtosaying
thingslikethis.
“Okay...”Isayandlookoutthesidewindow.
EverysecondIspendwithHardinincreasesmyfeelingsforhim,andIknow
it’sdangerousformetoallowthesesmall,seeminglymeaninglessmomentsto
occur, but I don’t have control of myself when Hardin is involved. I become
merelyapasserbyinthisstorm.
HARDINENDSUPDRIVINGTOBOB’S,andIthankhim.Bobendsupbeing
a short, sweaty, and overgelled man who smells like nicotine and leather and
whosesmileispunctuatedwithagoldtooth.Whilehetalkstome,Hardinstands
nearby, making faces when he isn’t looking. The little man seems to be
intimidatedbyHardin’sharshappearance,butIdon’tblamehim.Itakeonelook
at the condition of the used Prius and decide against it. I have a feeling the
momentIdroveoffthelotitwouldhavebrokendown,andBobhasastrictno-
returnpolicy.
Wevisitafewmorelotsandtheyareallequallyastrashy.Afteramorningof
countlessbaldingmen,Idecidetosuspendmysearchforacar.Iwillhavetogo
fartherawayfromcampusforadecentcarandIjustdon’tfeellikeittoday.We
decidetogetsomelunchatadrive-through,andwhileweeatinthecarHardin
surprisinglytellsmeastoryaboutwhenZedgotarrestedforpukingalloverthe
floorofaWendy’slastyear.ThedayisgoingbetterthanIcouldhaveimagined,
and for once I feel like we could both make it through this semester without
killingeachother.
Onourwaybacktocampus,wepassacutelittlefrozenyogurtbarandIbeg
Hardintostop.Hegroansandactslikehedoesn’twantto,butIseethehintofa
smilehidingbehindhissourfeatures.Hardintellsmetofindaspotandhegoes
andgetsouryogurtforus,pilingoneverycandyandcookieimaginable.Itlooks
disgusting,butheconvincesmeit’stheonlywaytogetyourmoney’sworth.As
gross as it looks, it’s delicious. I can’t even finish half of mine, but Hardin
happilyclearshiscupandtheremainderofmine.
“Hardin?”aman’svoicesays.
Hardin’sheadsnapsupandhiseyesnarrow.WasthatanaccentIheard?The
strangerisholdingabagandadrinkcarrierfullofyogurtcups.
“Um...hey,”Hardinsays,andIknowinstinctivelythatthisishisfather.The
manistallandlean,likeHardin,andhasthesame-shapedeyes,onlyhisarea
deepbrowninsteadofgreen.Otherthanthat,theyarepolaropposites.Hisfather
is wearing gray dress pants and a sweater vest. His brown hair has some gray
scatteredon itssides and his demeanor is coldly professional.Until hesmiles,
thatis,andshowsawarmthsimilartoHardin’s,whenheisn’tputtingsomuch
effortintobeingajerk.
“Hi,I’mTessa,”Ipolitelysayandreachmyhandout.Hardinglaresatmebut
Iignorehim.It’snotlikehewasgoingtointroduceme.
“Hello,Tessa.IamKen,Hardin’sfather,”hesaysandshakesmyhand.
“Hardin,younevertoldmeyouhadagirlfriend—youtwoshouldcomeover
fordinnertonight.Karenwillmakeanicemealforeveryone.She’sanexcellent
cook.”
I want to keep Hardin’s anger in check and tell his father that I’m not his
girlfriend,butHardinspeaksfirst.
“Wecan’ttonight.Ihaveapartytogotoandshedoesn’twanttocome,”he
snaps.AgaspescapesmylipsatthewayHardinspeakstohisfather.Ken’sface
dropsandIfeelterribleforhim.
“Actually, I would love to. I’m also a friend of Landon; we have classes
together,”Iinterject,andKen’sfriendlysmilereappears.
“Youare?Well,thatisgreat.Landonisanicekid.Iwouldbehappytohave
youovertonight,”KensaysandIsmile.
IfeelHardin’seyesblazingatmeasIask,“Whattimeshouldwebethere?”
“ ‘We’?”his fatherasksandInod.“Okay...let’sdoseven.Ineedtogive
Karenabitofawarningorshewillhavemyhead,”hejokesandIsmile.Hardin
staresangrilyouttheglasswall.
“Soundsgreat!We’llseeyoutonight!”
Hesays goodbyeto Hardin,who rudelyignores him despite me kickinghis
foot under the table. A minute after his dad leaves the store, Hardin stands
abruptlyandslamshischairintothetable.Ittopplesoverandhekicksitpartway
acrosstheroombeforerushingoutthedoorandleavingmealonetodealwith
everyone’sstares.Notsurewhattodo,Ileavemyyogurtwhereitis,stammeran
apologyundermybreath,andclumsilyuprightthechairbeforerunningoutafter
him.
chapterforty-five
IcalloutHardin’sname,butheignoresme.Whenhegetshalfwaytothecar,he
spinsaroundsoquicklythatIalmostcrashintohim.
“What the hell, Tessa! What the fuck was that?” he screams at me. People
walkingbystarttostare,buthecontinues.“Whatkindofgameareyoutryingto
playhere?”Hemovestowardme.Heisangry—beyondangry.
“There’snogamehere,Hardin—didn’tyouseehowmuchhewantedyouto
comeover?Hewastryingtoreachouttoyou,andyouweresodisrespectful!”
I’mreallynotsurewhy I’m yelling,butI’mnotgoing to justlethimshoutat
me.
“Reach out to me? Are you fucking kidding me? Maybe he should have
reachedouttomebackwhenhewasabandoninghisfamily!”Theveinsinhis
neckstrainunderhisskin.
“Stop swearing at me! Maybe he is trying to make up for lost time! People
makemistakes,Hardin,andheobviouslycaresaboutyou.Hehasthatroomfor
youathishouse,fullofclothesjustincase—”
“Youdon’tknowshitabouthim,Tessa!”hescreamsandshudderswithanger.
“Helivesinafuckingmansionwithhisnewfamilywhilemymumworksher
ass off, fifty hours a week to pay her bills! So don’t try to lecture me—mind
yourowndamnbusiness!”
He gets in the car, slamming his door closed. I scramble in, afraid that he
mightleavemehere,he’ssomad.Somuchforourargument-freeday.
He’s fuming mad but thankfully silent as we pull onto the main road. If I
couldkeepitthisquiettherestoftheride,I’dbehappy.Butpartofmeinsists
thatHardinneedstounderstandthatIwillnotbeyelledat;thatisoneredeeming
qualityIgivemymothercreditfor.Sheshowedmeexactlyhownottobetreated
byaman.
“Fine,”Isay,feigningcalm.“Iwillmindmyownbusiness,butI’maccepting
theinvitationtodinnertonightwhetheryougoornot.”
Like a wild animal who’s been riled up, he turns in my direction. “Oh no
you’renot!”
Retainingmyfakecalm,Isay,“YouhavenosayinwhatIdo,Hardin,andin
caseyou didn’tnotice,I was invited.Maybe I shouldsee ifZedwants tojoin
me?”
“What did you just say!?” The dirt and dust start flying all over as Hardin
jerksthesteeringwheelandpullsontotheshoulderofthebusyroad.
IknowIpushedhimtoofar,butIreallyamjustasangryasheisbythispoint
andyell,“Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?Pullingofftheroadlikethis!”
“Whatthehelliswrongwithyouisthequestion!YoutellmydadIwillgoto
hishousefordinner,thenyouhavetheaudacitytomentionbringingZed?”
“Oh,yeah,sorry,yourcoolfriendsdon’tknowthatLandonisyourstepbrother
andyou’reafraidtheywillfindout?”Isayandlaughathowridiculousheis.
“Heisnotmystepbrother,forone.Andtwo,youknowthatisn’twhyIdon’t
wantZedthere.”Hisvoiceismuchlowernow,yetstillthickwithanger.
Butthroughthechaosinthecar,thatbubbleofhopegrowsagainatHardin’s
jealousy.Iknowhisfeelingsaremoreofacompetitionthingthanactualconcern
overmybeingwithhim,butitstillmakesmystomachflutter.
“Well, if you won’t go with me, I will have to invite him.” I would never
actuallydoit,butHardindoesn’tknowthat.
Hardin stares straight out onto the street for a few seconds and then sighs,
deflatingsomeofthetension.“Tessa,Ireallydon’twanttogo.Idon’twantto
sitaroundwithmydad’sperfectfamily.Iavoidthemforareason.”
Ilightenmytoneaswell.“Well,Idon’twanttoforceyoutogoifitwillhurt
you,butIwouldreallylikeifyoucouldcomewithme.Iamgoingeitherway.”
Wewentfromeatingyogurttoscreamingateachotherandnowwearecalm
again.Myheadisspinningatleastasmuchasmyheart.
“Hurtme?”Hesoundsincredulous.
“Yeah, if it will bother you that much to be there, I won’t try to make you
come,”Ianswer.IknowthatIcouldnevermakeHardindoanythinghedoesn’t
wanttodo;hehasnohistoryofeverbeingcooperative.
“Why would you care if it hurt me?” His eyes meet mine and I try to look
away,butonceagainIamunderhisspell.
“OfcourseIwouldcare;whywouldn’tI?”
“Whywouldyouisthequestion.”
Thelookinhiseyesisapleadingone,likehewantsmetosaythewords,butI
can’t. He will use them against me and then probably never want to hang out
withmeagain.Iwillbecometheannoyinggirlwholikeshim,thekindofgirls
Stephtoldmeabout.
“Icareabouthowyoufeel,”IsayandIhopethisanswercanbegoodenough
forhim.
Interruptingourmomentinthecar,myphonerings.Ipullitoutofmypurse
andseeit’sNoah.Withoutthinking,IhitignorebeforeIrealizewhatI’mdoing.
“Whoisit?”Hardinissonosy.
“Noah.”
“You’renotgoingtoanswer?”Helookssurprised.
“No,we’retalking.”AndIwouldrathertalktoyou,mysubconsciousadds.
“Oh”isallhesays,buthissmileisevident.
“Soareyougoingtocomewithme?It’sbeenawhilesinceI’vehadahome-
cookedmeal,soIamnotpassingitup.”Ismile;themoodinthecarislighter
buttenseallthesame.
“No.Ihaveplans,anyway,”hemutters.Idon’twanttoknowifthoseplans
involveMolly.
“Oh,okay.AreyougoingtobemadatmeifIgo?”It’ssortofstrangeforme
to just go to Hardin’s father’s house, but Landon is my friend, too, and I was
invited.
“I’malwaysmadatyou,Tess,”hesays,amusementinhiseyeswhenhelooks
overatme.
Ilaugh.“I’malwaysmadatyou,too,”Itellhimandhechuckles.
“Canwegobacknow?Ifacopcomesalong,we’llgetaticket.”
Henods,puttingthecarintodriveandpullingbackontotheroad.Thefight
withHardinblewovermorequicklythanIexpected.Isupposehe’smuchmore
usedto constantconflict than I am; I would muchrather spendtime withhim
withoutfighting.
IpromisedmyselfthatIwouldn’taskbutIhavetoknow...“So,whatare
your...um...planstoday?”
“Whyareyouasking?”IcanfeelhiseyesonmebutIstareoutthewindow.
“I’m just wondering, you said you had plans anyway so I was just
wondering.”
“Wehaveapartyagain.ThatisbasicallywhatIdoeveryFridayandSaturday,
exceptlastnightandlastSaturday...”
Itraceacircleonthewindowwithonefinger.“Doesn’titgetold?Justdoing
thesamethingeveryweekendwiththesamedrunkpeople?”Ihopethatdoesn’t
offendhim.
“Yeah...Iguessitdoes.Butwe’reincollege,andI’minafraternity;what
elseistheretodo?”
“Idon’tknow ... it just seemstedious,toclean up everyone’s mess,every
weekendespeciallywhenyoudon’tevendrink.”
“Itis,butIhaven’tfoundanythingbettertodowithmytimeso—”Hestops.I
knowheisstilllookingatme,butIkeepmyeyesawayfromhim.
Therestofthedriveisquiet.Notawkward,justquiet.
WALKINGALONEfromthelottomydorm,I’mflustered.Myemotionsarein
overdrive.IjustspentthenightandmostoftheafternoonwithHardinandwe
gotalong,mostly.Itwasactuallyfun,alotoffun.Whycan’tIhaveagreattime
likethatwithsomeonewhoactuallylikesme?LikeNoah.IknowIshouldcall
himback,butIwanttorevelinthewayIfeelrightnow.
When I get back to my room, I’m surprised to see Steph there; she usually
staysgoneallweekend.
“Where have you been, young lady?” she teases and shoves a handful of
cheesepopcornintohermouth.
Ilaughandtakemyshoesoffbeforeploppingontothebed.“Iwaslookingfor
acar.”
“Find one?” she asks, and I dive into telling her about the run-down lots I
visited,leavingoutHardin’sinvolvementintheafternoon.Afterafewminutes,
there’saknockatthedoorandStephgetsuptoanswer.
“Whatareyoudoinghere,Hardin?”shegrowls.
Hardin.Iglanceupnervouslyandhewalksovertomybed.Hehashishands
inhispocketsandherocksbackonhisheels.
“DidIforgetsomethinginyourcar?”Iask,andhearStephgasp.Iwillhave
toexplaintoherlater,thoughI’mnotsurehowweendeduphangingout,either.
“Ermm . . . no. Um, well, I thought maybe I could drive you to my dad’s
housetonight.Youknow,sinceyoudidn’tfindacar,”hespitsout,notseeming
tonoticeorcarethatStephisstandingintheroomwithherjawpracticallyon
thefloor.“Ifnot...that’sokay,too.IjustthoughtIwouldoffer.”
Isitupandhepullshislipringbetweenhisteeth.Ilovewhenhedoesthat.I
amsosurprisedbyhisoffer,Ialmostforgettoactuallyanswerhim.“Yeah...
thatwouldbegreat.Thankyou.”
Ismileandhesmilesback,warmandseeminglyrelieved.Hepullsonehand
outofhispocketandsweepsitthroughhishairbeforestuffingitbackin.
“Okay...I’llcomebyaboutsixthirty,soyoucangetthereontime.”
“Thankyou,Hardin.”
“Tessa,”hesayscalmlyandwalksoutthedoor,pullingitshutbehindhim.
“Whatthehellwasthat?!”Stephsqueals.
“Idon’tknow,actually,”Iadmit.AssoonasIthinkHardincouldnotgetmore
confusing,hedoessomethinglikethis.
“Icannotbelievethatjusthappened!Imean,Hardin...thewayhecamein
here,like hewas nervous or something! Ohmy God!And he offeredto drive
you to his dad’s . . . Wait, why are you going to his dad’s house? And you
thoughtyouleftsomethinginhiscar?HowdoImisssomuch!Ineeddetails!”
Shepracticallyshoutsandboundsontothefootofmybed.
SoIgothroughthewholething,explainingtoherhowheshowedupherelast
nightandwewatchedamovieandhefellasleep,howwewenttolookatcars
today—andhowIdidn’tmentionhimbeingtherebeforebecauseIfiguredthatif
Iinsistedshehelpmekeephimaway,itwouldfeeloddtoadmitI’dhungout
withhim.Idon’tsaymuchabouthisdadexceptthatIamgoingtherefordinner,
butsheseemsmoreinterestedinlastnightanyway.
“Ican’tbelievehestayedhere—thatisahugedeal.LikeHardindoesn’tjust
stay places, ever. And he never lets anyone stay with him. I heard he has
nightmaresorsomething,Idon’tknow.Butseriously—whathave youdoneto
him?IwishIwouldhaverecordedthewayhelookedwhenhejustcamehere!”
sheyellsandlaughs.“Istilldon’tthinkthisisagoodidea,butyoudoseemto
handlehimbetterthanmost.Justbecareful,”shewarnsagain.
WhathaveIdonetohim?Nothing,surely.Hejustisn’tusedtobeingnice,but
for some reason he’s being nice to me. Maybe it’s a way to beat me at some
game,orproveapointthathecanfakemanners?Iamnotsureandithurtsmy
headtotrytofigureitout.
Ibring up Tristan, andSteph takestheconversation fromthere. I tryto pay
attentiontoherstoriesfromlastnight’sparty:howMollyendedupshirtless(go
figure) and Logan beat Nate in a drunken arm-wrestling match (she swears it
wasoneofthosethingsthataremuchfunnierwhenyou’rethere).Mythoughts
driftbacktoHardin,ofcourse,andIchecktheclocktomakesureIhaveenough
time to get ready for tonight. It is four o’clock now, so I should start getting
readyatfive.
StephtalksuntilfivethirtyandisecstaticwhenIaskhertodomyhairand
makeup. I am not sure why I am putting such effort into looking okay for a
familydinnerthatIreallyshouldn’tbegoingto,butIdoanyway.Sheappliesthe
makeup lightly so you canbarely tell it’s there, but it looks great. Natural but
pretty. Then she curls my hair the way she did before. I decide to wear my
favoritemaroondress,despiteSteph’sattemptstohavemewearsomethingfrom
hercloset.Mymaroondressisniceandconservative,perfectforafamilydinner.
“Atleastwearthelacetightsunderneath,orletmecutthesleevesoffit,”she
sayswithagroan.
“Fine, give me the lace tights, I guess. This isn’t that bad, though—it’s
formfitting,”Irebut.
“Iknow,it’sjust...boring.”Shecrinkleshernose.Shelooksmorepleased
when I put on the tights and agree to high heels. I still have a pair of Toms
tuckedinmypursefromyesterday,justincase.
Assixthirtyapproaches,IrealizeIammorenervousabouttheridetodinner
thanthe actual dinner.I fidget withthe tightsand practice walkingaround the
room a few times before Hardin finally knocks on the door. Steph gives me a
strangesmileandIpullthedooropen.
“Wow,Tessa,you...um...looknice,”hemumblesandIsmile.Sincewhen
doeshesay“um”ineverysentence?
Stephescortsusoutthedoor,winks,andexclaimslikeaproudparent,“You
twohavefun!”
Hardinflipsheroff,andshereturnsthevulgargestureasheclosesthedoorin
herface.
chapterforty-six
ThedrivetoHardin’sfather’shouseisnice.Thelowmusicinthebackground
ofhiscarfeelslikeadistraction,andInoticethewayhishandsaregrippingthe
steeringwheelalittletoohard.Heseemsonedgeduringthedrive,butIknowif
hewantstotalkaboutsomething,hewouldhavenoproblemcallingitout.
Iclimboutofthecarandwalkupthestepsfromthesidewalk.Withthesun
stillinthesky,Icanseesomeoldvinescreepingupthesidesofthehouseand
thesmallwhiteflowersthatjointhem.Unexpectedly,IhearHardin’sdooropen
and close, and then his boots on the sidewalk. I turn around to see him a few
stepsbehindme.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iaskhim.
“Comingwithyou,obviously.”Herollshiseyesandtakesonelongstrideto
joinmeatthetopofthesteps.
“Really?Itseemedlikeyouweren’t—”
“Yeah.Nowlet’sgoinsideandhavetheworstnightofourlives.”
HisfacetwistsintothefakestsmileIhaveeverseen.Ielbowhimandringthe
doorbell.“Idon’tringdoorbells,”hetellsmeandturnstheknob.Isupposeit’s
okaybecauseit’shisfather’shouse,butIstillfeelalittleuncomfortable.
Wewalkinsideandthroughthefoyerbeforehisfatherappears.Thesurprise
isevidentonhisface,buthesmileshischarmingsmileandgoestohughisson.
Hardin, however, dodges his gesture and walks right past him. The
embarrassmentflashesonMr.Scott’shandsomefeatures,butIlookawaybefore
herealizesthatIsawhissubtlegesture.
“Thankyousomuchforhavingus,Mr.Scott,”Isayaswepassthroughthe
doorway.
“Thankyousomuchforcoming,Tessa.Landonhastoldmesomeaboutyou.
Heseemsveryfondofyou.Andplease,callmeKen.”HesmilesandIfollow
himintothelivingroom.
LandonissittingonthecouchwithhisLiteraturebookonhislapasIenter.
Hisface lightsup and hecloses thebook asI walk over and sitdown nextto
him.I’mnotsurewhereHardinwentto,buthe’llappearsoonerorlater.
“SoyouandHardinaregivingyourfriendshipanothertry?”Landonaskswith
aslightfrown.IwanttoexplainwhatisgoingonbetweenHardinandme,butI
honestlyhavenoideamyself.
“It’scomplicated.”ItrytosmilebutIfeelitfalter.
“You’restillwith Noah, right?BecauseKen seems tothinkyou and Hardin
are dating.” He laughs. I hope my laugh doesn’t sound as fake as it feels. “I
didn’thavethehearttotellhimotherwise,butIamsureHardinwill,”hesays.
Ishiftuncomfortably,unsurewhattosay.“Yeah,I’mstillwithNoah,it’sjust
—”
“You must be Tessa!” A woman’s voice rings through the room. Landon’s
momwalkstowardmeandIstanduptoshakeherhand.Hereyesarebrightand
hersmileislovely.Sheiswearingaturquoisedress,similartomymaroondress,
withanapronprintedwithsmallstrawberriesandbananasoverthetopofit.
“It’ssonicetomeetyou;thankyouforhavingme.Yourhomeisbeautiful,”I
tellher.Hersmilecoversherfaceandshesqueezesmyhand.
“Youaresowelcome,dear,it’smypleasure,”shesays,beaming.Atimergoes
offfromthekitchenandshejumpsalittle.“Well,I’mgoingtofinishupinthe
kitchen,butI’llseeyouallinthediningroominafewminutes.”
“Whatareyouworkingon?”IaskLandonandhepullsoutafolder.
“Nextweek’sassignments.ThatessayonTolstoyisgoingtokillme.”
Ilaughandnod;thatessaytookmehourstowrite.“Yeah,itwasakiller.Ijust
finisheditafewdaysago.”
“Well,ifyoutwonerdsaredonecomparingnotes,Iwouldlovetoeatdinner
sometimeinthenextyear,”Hardinsays.Iglareathim,butLandonjustlaughs
andputshisbookdownbeforewalkingtothediningroom.Itseemstheirfight
wasgoodforthemafterall.
Ifollowthembothtothelargediningroom.There,alongtableisdecorated
beautifully with full place settings and multiple platters of food in the center.
Karenreallywentalloutforthis;HardinhadbetterbehaveorIwillkillhim.
“Tessa,youandHardinwillsitonthisside,”Kareninstructsusandgestures
totheleftofthetable.LandonsitsacrossfromHardin.KenandKarentaketheir
seatsontheothersideofLandon.
I thank her and sit down next to Hardin, who is quiet and seems
uncomfortable.IwatchasKarenmakesKen’splateforhimandhethanksher
withabriefkissonhercheek.Itissuchasweetgesture,Ihavetolookaway.I
fillmyplatewithroastbeef,potatoes,andsquash,thenpilearollontopofit.
Hardinchucklesquietlyatthemoundoffood.
“What?I’mhungry,”Iwhisper.
“Nothing.Hungrygirlsarethebest.”Helaughsagainandpileshisplateeven
higherthanmine.
“So,Tessa,howareyoulikingWashingtonCentralsofar?”Kenasks.
IchewmyfoodquicklysoIcananswer.“Ireallyenjoyit.It’sonlymyfirst
semester,though,soaskmeagaininafewmonths,”Ijokeandeveryonelaughs,
exceptHardin.
“Well,that’sgreat.Areyouinanyclubsoncampus?”Karenasksandwipes
hermouthwithhernapkin.
“Notyet,IplanonjoiningtheLiteraryClubnextsemester.”
“Really?Hardin usedto be a member,” Ken adds and Ilook atHardin. His
eyesarenarrowedandhelooksannoyed.
“SohowdoyoulikelivingnearWCU?”IasktodivertattentionfromHardin.
HiseyessoftenandIimaginethat’shiswayofthankingme.
“Weenjoyit.WhenKenfirstbecamechancellor,welivedinamuchsmaller
placeuntilwefoundthishouseandwefellinlovewithitimmediately.”
Myforkdropsagainsttheglassplate.“Chancellor?OfWCU?”Igasp.
“Yes.Hardinnevermentionedit?”Kenasks,lookingoverathisson.
“No...Ididn’t.”
KarenandLandonfollowKen’seyestoHardinandheshiftsnervously.
Forhispart,Hardinlooksbackathisfatherwithaglaringhatred.Helaunches
to his feet, shouting, “No! Okay, no, I didn’t tell her—I don’t know why it
fuckingmatters.Idon’tneedtouseyournameorposition!”Ashestormsaway
fromthetable,Karenlookslikeshemightcry,andKen’sfaceisred.
“Iamsosorry,Ididn’tknowhe...”Istart.
“No,don’tapologizeforhispoorbehavior,”Kentellsme.
Ihearthebackdoorslam.“Excuseme,”Isay,andstandupfromthetableto
gofindHardin.
chapterforty-seven
IrushoutthebackdoorandseeHardinpacingbackandforthonthedeck.I’m
notsurewhatIcandotohelpthesituation,butIknowIwouldratherbeouthere
with Hardin than face his family in the dining room after that outburst. I feel
responsible for this whole thing anyway, since I agreed to come here when
Hardin didn’t want to. If he started suddenly hanging out with my mother, I
knowIwouldfeelweirdaboutit.
Ha,likeshewouldeverletthathappen,mysubconsciouspointsout.
As if he heard my thoughts, Hardin shoots me an annoyed look. When I
approachhimheturnsawayfromme.
“Hardin...”
“No,Tessa,don’t,”hesayssharply.“Iknowyou’regoingtosaythatIneedto
go back in there and apologize to them. But there is no way in hell that is
happening,sodon’twasteyourbreath!Whydon’tyoujustgobackinthereand
enjoyyourdinnerandleavemethehellalone.”
Itakeastepcloser,butallIcanmanagetosayis“Idon’twanttogobackin
there.”
“Whynot?Youfitinperfectlywiththeirprudishandboringpersonalities.”
Ouch!WhyamIhereagain?Oh,yeah,that’sright:tobeHardin’spunching
bag.
“Youknowwhat?Fine!Iwillleave—Idon’tknowwhyIjustcan’tstoptrying
withyou!”Ishout,buthopetheycan’thearmeinside.
“Becauseyoujustcan’ttakeahint,Iguess.”Asthewordsleavehismouth,I
feelthelumpgrowinginmythroat.
“Thehintiswell-taken.”Istareatthestonepatioandtrytoswallowthesting
fromhiswords,butit’simpossible.WhenIlookupatHardin,hiscoldeyesmeet
mine.
“That’sit?That’syourdefense?”Helaughsandrakeshishandsthroughhis
hair.
“Youdon’tdeserveanymoreofmytime.Youdon’tdeserveformetoeven
speak to you, or those nice people in there to spend their time setting up this
dinnertohaveyouruinit!That’swhatyoudo:ruinthings,everything!AndIam
donebeingoneofthosethings.”MytearssoakmyfaceasHardinstepstoward
me.I back away, my feet trippingon something. Hardin reaches outto steady
me,butIgrabholdofapatiochairinstead.Idon’twantorneedhishelp.
Lookingup,Iseethathisexpressionisoneofexhaustion.Hisvoiceis,too,
whenhesayssoftly,“You’reright.”
“IknowIam.”Iturnawayfromhim.
FasterthanIcouldhaveimagined,hesnakeshisfingersaroundmywristand
pullsmetohischest.Ileanintohimwithouthesitation,wantingtotouchhimso
badly.ButIknowbetter:Icanhearthewarninginthethumpofmyheart,rapid
beneathmychest.IwonderifHardincanhearit,too,orfeelthepoundingofmy
pulseunderhisgrip.HiseyesarefullofangerandIknowminemirrorhis.
Ihavenowarningbeforehecrasheshislipsdownonmine,theforceofhis
mouthalmostpainful.HisactionissofullofdesperationandhungerthatIam
lost.LostinHardin.Lostinthesaltytasteofmytearsonbothourlips,lostinhis
fingers threaded through my hair. His hands move from my head to my waist
andhe lifts me onto the railing. My legs part for him and he moves between
them,neverlosingcontactwithmymouth.Weareallheatandgasps,tangledin
eachother.Myteethgrazeoverhisbottomlip,causinghimtogroanandpullme
evencloser.
Thebackdoorcreaksopen,breakingthespell.Turningtolook,Iamhorrified
as Landon’s soft eyes meet mine. His face is red, and his eyes wide. I push
Hardinawayfrommeandjumpdownfromtherail,adjustingmydressasmy
feethitthedeck.
“Landon,I...”Ibegin.
Heholdsuphishandtosilencemeandstepstowardus.Hardin’sbreathingis
soloudthatI swear itechoesbetweenthehouse and thetrees.Hischeeks are
flamed,hiseyeswild.
“Idon’tunderstand.Ithoughtyouguyshatedeachother,andhereyouare...
Youhaveaboyfriend,Tessa,Ididn’tthinkyouwerelikethat.”Landon’swords
areharshbuthistoneissoft.
“I’m not . . . I don’t know what this is.” I motion between me and Hardin.
Hardinstayssilent,forwhichIamglad.“Noahknows,well,aboutbefore.Iwas
goingtotellyou,Ijustdon’twantyoutothinkdifferentlyofme,”Isay,almost
apologetically.
“I don’t know what to think . . .” Landon says and walks back toward the
door.
Then,likesomethingoutofamovie,aclashofthunderrollsthroughtheair.
“It looks like it might storm,” Hardin says, his eyes scanning the darkening
sky.Despitehisflushedappearance,hisvoiceiscalm.
“A storm?Landon just caughtus .. . kissing,”I say,feelingthe fireslowly
burningoutbetweenus.
“He’llbeokay.”
I look up at him, expecting to see a smug expression, but it’s not there. He
putshishandonmybackandrubsgently.
“Doyou wantto goback insideor do you wantme to take you home?” he
asks.
It’s astounding how abruptly his mood can change from angry to lustful to
calm.
“Iwouldliketogobackinsideandfinishdinner.Whatdoyouwanttodo?”
“Isupposewecangobackin;thefoodisprettygood,”hesays,smiling,andI
giggle.“That’salovelysound,”hetellsmeandImeethisgaze.
“You’reinamuchbettermood,”Isayandhesmilesagain.
He rubs the back of his neck like he always does. “I don’t understand it,
either.”
So he is just as confused as I am? I wish my feelings for him weren’t so
strong;thenIcoulddealwithhimmuchbetter.Whenhesaysthingslikethisit
makesmecareforhimthatmuchmore.Ionlywishhecouldfeelthesame,butI
havebeenwarnedbyStephandHardinhimselfthatitwillneverhappen.
Thunder rolls again and Hardin takes my hand. “Let’s go inside before it
rains.”
Inodandheleadsmeinside.Hedoesn’tremovehishandfrommineaswe
walk back into the dining room. Landon’s eyes dart down to note this, but he
saysnothing.AsmuchasIdon’twantLandontoseeit,IlovethewayHardin’s
handfeelsovermine.Iloveittoomuchtopullaway.Landonfocusesbackon
hisplateasweretakeourseats.Lettinggoofmyhand,Hardinlooksupathis
fatherandKaren.
“Iamsorryforyellingatyouthatway,”hemutters.
Thesurpriseoneveryone’sfaceisevidentandHardinlooksdownatthetable.
“IhopeIdidn’truinthedinnerthatyouputsomucheffortinto,”hecontinues.
Ican’thelp myself. I reachunder thetable andput my hand over Hardin’s,
givingitalightsqueeze.
“It’s okay, Hardin, we understand. Let’s not let the night be ruined; we can
still enjoy the dinner.” Karen smiles and Hardin looks at her. He gives her a
small smile, which I know takes a lot of effort from him. Ken doesn’t say
anything,buthenodsinagreementwiththesentiment.
I slowly pull my hand away, but Hardin laces his fingers through mine and
lookssidewaysatme.IhopeIdon’twearthegiddyexpressionIfeelinside.For
whatseemslikethefirsttimeinmylife,Idon’toverthinkthings,likewhyIam
holdinghishandwhenI’mdatingNoah.
Dinnercontinueswell,butIfindmyselfalittleintimidatedbyKennowthatI
knowhe’sthechancellor.Thatisahugedeal.Hetellsusaboutwhenhemoved
from England, and how he loves America, and the state of Washington in
particular.Hardinisstillholdingmyhandaswebothstruggletoeatusingone
hand,butneitherofusseemstomind.
“Theweathercouldbebetter,butit’sbeautifulhere,”Kenmuses,andInodin
agreement.
“What are your plans after college?” Karen asks me as everyone finishes
eating.
“I’mgoingtomovetoSeattle,andhopefullyworkinpublishingwhileIwork
onmyfirstbook,”Isaywithconfidence.
“Publishing?Doyouhaveanyhousesinmind?”Kenasks.
“Notexactly.IwilltakeanyopportunityIcangettogetmyfootinthedoor.”
“That’sgreat.IhappentohavesomeprettygoodconnectionsatVance.Have
you heard of it?” he asks and I look at Hardin. He had mentioned knowing
someonetherebefore.
“Yes,I’veheardgreatthingsaboutit.”Ismile.
“I can make a call for you if you would like, to see about an internship. It
wouldbeagreatopportunityforyou.Youseemlikeaverybrightyoungwoman,
andI’dlovetohelpout.”
ItakemyhandoutofHardin’sandclaspitwithmyotherjustundermychin.
“Really?Thatwouldbesoniceofyou!Ireallyappreciateit!”
KentellsmethathewillcallwhoeveritisthatheknowsonMonday,andI
thank him repeatedly. He assures me it’s nothing and that he loves to help
anytimehecan.Iputmyhandbackunderthetable,butHardinhasmovedhis
hand away, and when Karen stands and begins to clear the table, he excuses
himselfandwalksoffupstairs.
chapterforty-eight
Karen smiled appreciatively when I offered to help with the cleanup, and
seemed a little surprised I would. I load the dishwasher while she washes the
largeservingplates.Irealizetheplatesalllookreallynew,andrememberhow
muchdamageHardincausedthatnight.Hecanbesocruel.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you and Hardin been seeing
eachother?”Sheblushesatherownquestion,butIgiveherawarmsmile.
Figuringitbestjusttododgethedatingquestion,Isay,“Well,wehaveonly
knowneachotheraboutamonth;heisfriendswithmyroommate,Steph.”
“We have only met a few of Hardin’s friends. You are . . . well, you are
differentfromtheonesthatIhavecomeacross.”
“Yeah,we’reverydifferent.”
Lightningflashes andthe rainbegins topound againstthe windows.“Wow,
it’s really coming down out there,” she says and pushes the small window in
frontofthesinkclosed.
“Hardinisn’tasbadasheseems,”shetellsme,thoughreallyitfeelssortof
like she’s reminding herself. “He’s just hurt. I would love to believe that he
won’talwaysbethisway.ImustsayIwasverysurprisedthathecametonight,
andIcanonlybelievethat’syourinfluenceonhim.”
Takingmebysurprise,shewrapsherarmsaroundmeandpullsmeintoahug.
Unsure what to say, I hug her back. She pulls away but keeps her well-
manicuredhandsonmyshoulders.
“Really,thankyou,”shesays,thenblotshereyeswithatissuefromherapron
beforereturningtothedishes.
SheistookindformetotellherthatIdon’thaveanyinfluenceonHardin.He
came tonight only because he wanted to annoy me. After I finish loading the
dishwasher, I stare out the window watching the raindrops trickle down the
glass. It is remarkable that Hardin, who hates everyone except himself, and
maybe his mother, has all these people who care about him yet refuses to let
himselfcareforthem.Heisluckytohavethem,us.IknowIamoneofthose
people.IwoulddoanythingforHardin;eventhoughIwoulddenyit,Iknowit
tobetrue.Ihavenoone,exceptNoahandmymother,andbothofthemtogether
don’tcareaboutmethewayHardin’ssoon-to-bestepmotherdoeshim.
“I’mgoingtogocheckonKen.Makeyourselfathome,dear,”Karensaysto
me. I nod and decide to go find Hardin, or Landon, whichever one of them
appearsfirst.
Landonisnowheretobefounddownstairs,soImakemywayuptoHardin’s
room. If he’s not up here, I figure, I’ll just go sit downstairs alone. I turn the
handle,butthedoorislocked.
“Hardin?”Itrytospeakquietlysonoonehearsme.Itapmyknucklesagainst
the door but hear nothing. Just as I start to turn away, the door clicks and he
opensit.
“Can I come in?” I ask him and he nods once and pulls the door open just
enoughforme.ThereisabreezeintheroomandIcansmellthecoolscentof
therain coming throughthe bay window. Hewalks over andsits downon the
built-inbenchsurroundingthewindowandraiseshiskneesup.Hestaresoutthe
window but doesn’t say a word to me. I sit across from him and wait as the
constantdrummingoftheraincreatesacalmingrhythm.
“What happened?” I finally ask. When he looks at me with a confused
expression, I explain: “I mean downstairs. You were holding my hand and
then...whydidyoupullaway?”Iamembarrassedbythedesperationinmy
voice.Isoundtooneedy,butthewordshavealreadybeendelivered.
“Wasittheinternship—doyounotwantmetotakeitforsomereason?You
offeredtohelpmebefore?”
“That’sjustit,Tessa,”hesays,andlooksoutthewindowagain.“Iwanttobe
theonetohelpyou,nothim.”
“Why?It’snotacompetition,andyouweretheonewhoofferedfirst,sothank
you.” I want to ease his mind on this, even though I don’t understand why it
matters.
Heletsoutanexasperatedsighandhugshisknees.Silencehangsbetweenus
aswebothstareoutthewindow.Thewindhaspickedup,swayingthetreesback
andforth,andthelightningismorefrequentnow.
“Doyouwantmetoleavenow?IcancallStephandseeifTristancanpick
me up,” I whisper. I don’t want to leave but sitting in silence with Hardin is
drivingmeinsane.
“Leave?HowdoyougetthatIwantyoutoleavefrommesayingIwantto
helpyou?”Heraiseshisvoice.
“I-Idon’tknow.Youaren’tspeakingtomeandthestormisgettingworse...”
Istutter.
“Youaremaddening,absolutelymaddening,Theresa.”
“How?”Isqueak.
“ItrytotellyouthatI...thatIwanttohelpyouandIholdyourhandbutthat
doesn’tdoanything...youstilldon’tgetit.Idon’tknowwhatelsetodo.”He
putshisfaceinhishands.Hecan’tpossiblymeanwhatIthinkhedoes?
“Getwhat?Idon’tgetwhat,Hardin?”
“That I want you. More than I have ever wanted anyone or anything in my
entirelife.”Helooksawayfromme.
Mystomachflipsoverandoverandmyheadstartstospin.Theairbetweenus
has once again shifted. Hardin’s unguarded admission hits me hard. Because I
wanthim,too.Morethananything.
“Iknowyoudon’t...youdon’tfeelthatway,butI...”hebeginsandthis
timeIamtheonetocuthimoff.
Imovehishandsoffhiskneesandpullthem,bringinghimtome.Hehovers
overme,uncertaintyclearinhisgreeneyes.Ihookmyfingerintothecollarof
his shirt and pull him down to me. Eye to eye. He rests his knee beside my
thighsonthebenchandIlookupathimagain.Hetakesafewbreaths,hiseyes
shiftingfrommylipsbacktomyeyes.Histongueswipesoverhislowerlipand
Iinchcloser.Iexpectedhimtokissmebynow.
“Kissme,”Ibeg.
Andhemoveshisheadcloser,leaningintome.Hesnakeshisarmaroundmy
back and guides me down so my back is lying flat on the cushioned bench. I
openmylegsforhim,forthesecondtimetoday,andhelayshisbodybetween
them.HisfaceisinchesawayfromminewhenIliftmyheaduptokisshim.I
can’twaitanylonger.Asourlipsbrush,hegentlypullsaway,nuzzleshishead
inmyneck,plantingasmallkissthere,thenslowlybringshislipsbackup.He
kissesthecornerofmymouth,thenmyjaw,sendingshiversofpleasurethrough
me.Hislipsbrushovermineoncemoreandherunshistongueovermybottom
lip before closing his lips around mine and opening them again. The kiss is
gentleandslow,ashelapshistonguearoundmine.Oneofhishandsrestsonmy
hip,fistedaroundthematerialofmydresswhereithasbunchedupatmythighs.
The other hand caresses my cheek as he kisses me; my arms wrap around his
back,hugginghimtightlytome.Everyfiberofmewantstobitehislip,topull
hisshirtoverhishead,butthesoftandgentlewayheiskissingmefeelseven
betterthantheusualburnoffire.
Hardin’slipsmoldtomine,andmyhandstraveluphisback.Hisnarrowhips
grinddownonmine,andawhimperescapesmylips.Heswallowsmygaspsas
hislipstracemine,movementformovement.
“Oh, Tessa, the things you do to me . . . the way you make me feel,” he
whispersintomymouth.HiswordsunravelmeandIreachforthehemofhis
shirt.Hishandtravelsdownfrommycheek,tomychest,anddownmystomach,
wheregoosebumpsareformingonmyskin.Hishandmovestothesmallspace
betweenourbodieswheremylegsareparted,andIgaspasherubsgentlyover
thelaceofmytights.HeappliesalittlemorepressureandIgroanandarchmy
backoffthebench.
No matter how angry or upset he makes me, one touch from him and I am
underhiscontrol.Buthiscalmandcontrolseemtobefaltering;heistryingto
holdontothem,butIcanseehisresolvecrumbling.Hebrusheshisnoseagainst
mycheekasIpullhisshirtupandoverhishead.Itstrainstogetoverhishair,
buthereachesonehandupandtugsitasheliftsoffme.Hetossestheshirtand
immediatelydipshishead back downandfindsmy lips oncemore.Igrab his
handandmoveitbackbetweenmythighs;asmallchucklevibratesthroughhim
andhelooksdownatme.
“Whatdoyouwanttodo,Tessa?”Hisvoiceishoarse.
“Anything,”Itellhimandmeanit.Iwilldoanythingwithhim,andIdon’t
careabouttheconsequencesthatmightcometomorrow. He said he wantsme,
andIamhistotake.IhavebeensinceIkissedhimthatfirsttime.
“Don’t say anything, because there are a lot of things I can do to you,” he
groansandpusheshisthumbagainstmytightsandpanties.Myimaginationruns
wildwithideas.
“Youdecide,”Imoanashemoveshisthumbinacircle.
“You’resowetformeIcanfeelyouthroughthetights.”Helickshislipsand
Imoanagain.“Let’sgetthesetightsoff,okay?”heasks,butbeforeIanswerhe
moves off me. His hands slide up my dress and grab the tights, pulling them
down,alongwithmypantiesatthesametime.ThecoolairhitsmeandIbuck
myhipsinvoluntarily.
“Fuck,” he mutters as his eyes rake my body and stop between my legs.
Unable to stop himself, he reaches down and slides his finger down my spot.
Thenhebringshisfingertohislipsandhesucksonitwithhoodedeyes.Oh.
Watchinghimsendsheatthroughmywholebody.
“RememberwhenIsaidIwantedtotasteyou?”heasks,andInod.“Well,I
wantto now.Okay?” His expressionis eager. Iam alittleembarrassed by the
idea,butifitfeelsasgoodashimrubbingmeatthestream,Iwanthimto.He
lickshislipsagainandboreshiseyesintomine.ThelasttimeIwasgoingtolet
himdothis,weendedupfightingbecausehewasbeingcruel.Ihopehedoesn’t
ruinitagain.
“Doyouwantmeto?”heasks,andIgroan.
“Please,Hardin,don’tmakemesayit,”Ibeg.
He brings his hand back down to me and runs his fingers along my hips in
widecircles.“Iwon’t,”hepromises.Iamrelieved.Inodmyheadandheletsout
abreath.
“Weshouldmovetothebedsoyouhavemoreroom,”hesuggestsandreaches
for my hand. I pull my dress down once I stand up and he smirks at me. He
walks to the side of the bay window and pulls a string, setting free thick blue
curtains,makingtheroommuchdarker.
“Takeitoff,”hedemandsquietlyandIdoasIamtold.Thedresspoolsatmy
feetandIamleftinjustmybra.Mybraisplainwhite,withasmallbowonthe
dipbetweenthecups.Hiseyesgowideandloiteronmychest,andhereaches
outandtakesthesmallbowbetweenhislongfingers.
“Cute.”HesmilesandIcringe.Ineedtoinvestinsomenewunderthingsif
Hardinisgoingtokeepseeingmeinthem.Itrytocovermynakedbodyfrom
him.IammorecomfortablewithHardinthanIhaveeverbeenwithanyone,but
Iamstillshystandingherecladinonlyabra.Iglancetowardthedoorandhe
padsovertomakesureit’slocked.
“Areyousmirkingatme?”Iscoldandheshakeshishead.
“Never.”Hechucklesandleadsmetothebed.“Liedownattheedgeofthe
bed,withyourfeetonthegroundsoIcankneelinfrontofyou,”heinstructs.
I lay back on the large bed and he slides me down by my thighs. My feet
danglebutdon’treachthefloor.
“I never realized how tall the bed is,” he says and laughs. “So maybe lie
towardthetop.”IscoottowardthetopofthebedandHardinfollowsbehind.He
hookshisarmsaroundmythighsandbendshiskneesslightlysoheiscrouched
infrontofme,betweenmylegs.Theanticipationofhowthiswillfeelisdriving
mewild.IwishIhadmoreexperiencesoIwouldknowwhattoexpect.
Hardin’scurlsticklemythighsashelowershishead.
“I’mgoing to make you feelso good,” hemutters againstmy stomach. My
pulseisthrummingthroughmyears,andItemporarilyforgetwe’reinthehouse
withotherpeople.
“Spreadyourlegs,baby,”hewhispersandIoblige.Hegivesmeadazedsmile
and brings his mouth down and kisses just under my belly button. His tongue
swirlsaroundmycreamyskinandmyeyesflutterclosed.Henipsatthesoftskin
covering my hip and I yelp in surprise. He sucks the skin between his lips. It
stings,butthereissomethingsosensualaboutitthatIdon’tmindthepain.
“Hardin,please,”Ibreathe.Ineedsomesortofrelieffromhisslow,teasing
torture.
Then,withoutwarninghistonguepressesflatagainstmycenter,makingme
cryoutinpleasure.Hemakessmallstrokeswithhistongue,andmyhandsgrip
thecomforteronthebed.Iwriggleunderneathhisskillfultongueandhewraps
hisarmstighter,holdingmeinplace.IfeelHardin’sfingerrubbingalongwith
histongue’scaressesandtheburnbeginstobuildinmystomach.Ifeelthecool
metal of his lip ring, which adds a different texture and temperature to the
sensation.
Withoutmypermission,Hardinslowlyslidesafingerinsideme,gentlyeasing
itin.Iclenchmyeyesclosed,waitingfortheuncomfortablestingtogoaway.
“Areyouokay?”Heliftshisheadupslightly,hisplumplipsglisteningfrom
me. I nod, unable to find the words, and he withdraws his finger slowly and
slidesitbackin.Itfeelsincredibleincombinationwithhistongue.Igroanand
move a hand to his soft hair, threading my fingers through and tugging. His
fingerkeepsenteringmeanddrawingoutslowly.Thunderboomsthroughoutthe
house,echoingoffthewallsandallaround,butIamtoodistractedtocare.
“Hardin,”Imoanashistonguefindsthatoverlysensitivespotandhegently
sucks. I never knew that anything could feel this way, this good. My body is
overtakenby sensation and pleasure, andI sneaka peak down at Hardin,who
looks incredibly sexy between my legs, the hard muscles under his skin
contractingashepumpshisfingerinandout.
“Should I make you come this way?” he asks. I whimper at the loss of his
tongueandnodfrantically.Hesmirksandtoucheshistonguetomeagain,this
timeinflickingmotionsagainstthatspotthatIhavecometolove,literally.
“Oh, Hardin,” I breathe and he groans against me, sending the vibrations
straight through my center. My legs stiffen, and I mutter his name repeatedly
whileIcomeundone.MyvisionblursandIscrewmyeyesshut.Hardinholds
me and flicks his tongue faster. I take one hand from his hair and cover my
mouthwithit,bitingdowntoensureIwon’tscream.Secondslater,myheadhits
thepillowandmychestisheavingupanddownasItrytocatchmybreath.My
bodyisstilltinglingfromtheeuphoricstateIwasjustin.
IambarelyawareofHardin’sbodymovinguponthebedandlyingnextto
me.Hepropshimselfonhiselbowandbringshisthumbuptocaressmycheek.
Heletsmecomebacktorealitybeforetryingtomakemespeak.
“Howwasthat?”heasks,hisvoiceholdingahintofuncertaintyasIrollmy
headtolookathim.
“Mmm-hmm.” I nod and he chuckles. It was incredible, beyond incredible.
NowIknowwhyeveryonedoesthistypeofstuff.
“Thatsedated,huh?”heteases.Thepadofhisthumbbrushesmylowerlip.I
bringmytongueouttowetmylips,andittouchesHardin’sthumb.
“Thankyou.” Ismile shyly. Idon’tknowwhy I feel shy after what we just
did,butIdo.Hardinhasseenmeinmymostvulnerablestate,astatethatnoone
elsehas,andthatterrifiesmeasmuchasitexcitesme.
“Ishouldhavewarnedyoubeforeusingmyfingers.Itriedtobegentle,”he
saysinapology.
Ishakemyhead.“It’sokay,itfeltgood.”Iblush.
He smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear. A small shiver runs down my
spine, and Hardin’s brows lower. “Are you cold?” he asks and I nod. He
surprisesmebypullingthesideofthecomforteroverandcoveringmyalmost
nakedbody.
Braverybringsmeto scoot closertohim.His eyes regardmecarefullyas I
curlmybodyandlaymyheadagainstthehardsurfaceofhisstomach.Hisskin
is colder than I expected, though the breeze is still floating through the room
from the storm. I pull the sheets up and cover his chest, hiding my head
underneath. He lifts them up, revealing my face, and I duck away from him,
laughinglightlyatourlittlegameofhide-and-seek.
IwishIcouldjustlayherewithhimforhours,feelinghisheartbeatagainst
mycheek.“Howmuchlongeruntilwehavetogobackdownstairs?”Iask.
He shrugs. “We should probably go down now before they think we are
fuckinguphere,”hejokesandwebothlaughalittle.I’mgettingmoreandmore
usedtohisfoulmouth,butit’sstillalittleshockingtohearhimsaythosewords
socasually.Thethingthatshocksmethemostisthewaymyskintingleswhen
hesaysthem.
Igroanandclimboutofbed.IfeelHardin’seyes onmeasIbenddownto
retrievemyclothes.Itosshimhisshirtandhepullsitoverhishead,thenruffles
hismessyhair.Istepintomypantiesandshimmythemonunderhisgaze.The
tightsarenextandIalmosttripoverthemasIstepintothem.
“Stop watching me; it’s making me nervous,” I tell him, and he smiles, his
dimplesasprominentasever.
His hands slide into his pocket and he looks up at the ceiling. I giggle and
finallygetthetightsup.
“CanyouzipmydressonceIgetiton?”Iaskhim.Hiseyesscanmybody
andIcanseehispupilsdilatefromthreefeetaway.IglancedownandIseewhy.
My breasts are spilling out of my bra and the lace tights hang just above my
hips;Isuddenlyfeellikeapinupgirl.
“Y-yeah. I. Will help,” he says, gulping. It is astounding that someone as
handsome—well, as sexy—as Hardin would be as affected by me as he is. I
knowI’mconsideredattractive,butIamnothinglikethegirlsheusuallymesses
with.Ihavenotattoos,nopiercings,andIdressconservatively.
Iputthedressonandturnawayfromhim,exposingmybacktohim,waiting
for him to zip it up. I lift my hair up and hold it above my head. His finger
grazes along my spine, skipping over my bra strap before he zips the dress. I
shiverandleanbackagainsthim.Ipurposelypushmybehindagainsthimand
hear him suck in a breath. His hands move down to my hips and he squeezes
gently.Ifeelhimhardeningagainstme,sendingelectricitythroughmeforwhat
feelslikethehundredthtimetoday.
“Hardin?”Karen’svoicecallsfromthehallasadelicatetappinghitsthedoor,
andIbecomeextremelythankfulwe’rebothdressed.
Hardinrollshiseyesandbringshislipstomyear.“Later,”hepromisesand
walkstothedoor.Heswitchesonthelightbeforeopeningit,revealingKaren.
“Iam so sorry for intruding,but Imade somedesserts as well, and thought
maybeyoutwowouldlikesome?”sheofferssweetly.Hardindoesn’tanswerher
buthelooksbackatme,waitingformyreply.
“Yes,thatwouldbelovely,”Isaywithasmileandshegrinsback.
“Great!Iwillseeyoudownstairs,”shetellsusandturnstowalkaway.
“I’vealreadyhadmydessert,”Hardinsaysmischievously,andIswathisarm.
chapterforty-nine
Karenhasmadelotsofsweetsforustoeat.IeatafewwhilesheandIdiscuss
her love for baking. Landon doesn’t join us in the dining room but it doesn’t
seemtocauseanysuspicion.Ilookovertowherehejustsitsonthecouchwith
his book on his lap and remind myself that I need to make sure I talk to him
soon.Idon’twanttolosehisfriendship.
“Ilovebakingaswell,Iamjustnogoodatit,”ItellKaren,andshelaughs.
“Iwouldlovetoteachyou,”shesays.HopeisevidentinherbrowneyesandI
nod.
“Thatwouldbegreat.”Idon’thavethehearttosayno.Ifeelforher;sheis
reallytryingtomakeanefforttogettoknowme.ShebelievesmetobeHardin’s
girlfriendandIcan’ttellherotherwise.Hardinhasmadenomovetotellheror
hisfather,either,whichgivesmeaswellofhope.Iwishthisnightwashowmy
life could always be, enjoying spending time with Hardin, his eyes constantly
meetingmine as I converse withhis father and future stepmother. He isbeing
nice,forthelasthouratleast,andhisthumbrubsovermyknucklesinagentle
gesturethatgivesmeaconstantstringofbutterflies.Theraincontinuestopour
outsideandthewindhowls.
After we finish the desserts, Hardin gets up from the table. I look at him
questionablyandheleansdowntowhisperinmyear.
“Be right back, just going to the loo,” he says, and I watch him disappear
downthehall.
“We both cannot thank you enough. It is so wonderful having Hardin here,
evenifit’sonlyonedinner,”KarensaysandKentakesherhandabovethetable.
“She’sright.Itiswonderful,ashisfather,toseemyonlysoninlove.Ihad
always worried he wouldn’t be capable . . . he was an . . . angry child,” Ken
muttersandlooksatme.HemustnoticehowIshiftuncomfortablyinmyseat,
becausehefollowsupwith“I’msorry,Idon’tmeantomakeyouuncomfortable,
wejustlovetoseehimhappy.”
Happy?Love?Ichokeonmybreathandbreakintoaheapofcoughs;thecool
waterin my glassslides down mythroat, calming it,and I lookback at them.
Theythink Hardin isin love withme? It wouldbe incredibly rudeto laugh at
them,butheobviouslydoesn’tknowhisson.
BeforeIcanrespond,HardinreturnsandIthanktheheavensthatIdidn’thave
to respond to their sweet, but false, assumptions. Hardin doesn’tsit down, but
ratherstandsbehindmewithhishandsonthebackofthechair.
“Wereallyshouldgetgoing.IhavetotakeTessabacktothedorms,”hesays.
“Oh,don’tbesilly.Youtwoshouldstaytonight.It’sstormingoutsideandwe
haveplentyofroom.Right,Ken?”
Hardin’sfathernods.“Ofcourse,you’rebothwelcometostay.”
Hardinlooks atme. Iwant tostay.To extendmy timewith Hardin in what
feels like a world away from the world, especially when he is in such a good
mood.
“I don’tmind,” I answer. But I don’t want to upset him by wanting to stay
hereanylonger.Hiseyesareunreadable,buthedoesn’tseemtobeangry.
“Great!Thenit’ssettled.I’llshowTessatoaroom...unlessyou’llbestaying
with Hardin in his?” she asks. There is no judgment behind her voice, only
kindness.
“No,I’dlikemyownroom,please.Ifthat’sokay?”
Hardinglaresatme.
Sohewantedmeinhisroomwithhim?Thethoughtexcitesme,butIdon’t
feel comfortable with them knowing Hardin and I are at that point yet. My
snarkysubconsciousremindsmethatwearen’tdatingatall,orevenclosetoit,
sobeingata“point”isn’tpossible.ThatIhaveaboyfriendwhoisnotHardin.I
ignore her as usual and follow Karen upstairs. I wonder why she’s sending us
straighttobed,butI’mnotcomfortableenoughtoask.
SheshowsmetoaroomdirectlyacrossfromHardin’s.Itisn’tquiteaslarge,
butit’sdecoratedjustasbeautifully.Thebedisalittlesmallerandsitsonawhite
frameagainstthewall.Therearepicturesofboatsandanchorsscatteredthrough
theroom.Ithankhermultipletimesandshehugsmeagainbeforeleavingmeto
myroom.
Iwalkaroundtheroomandfindmyselfatthewindow.Thebackyardismuch
biggerthanIhadthought;Ihadonlyseenthedeckandthetreesontheleftside.
On the right side there is a small building that looks like a greenhouse, but I
can’ttellthroughtheheavyrain.
AsIstareattherain,mythoughtsbegintorunwild.Todayhasbeenthebest
timeIhaveeverhadwithHardin,despitehismultipleoutbursts.Hehasheldmy
hand,whichheneverdoes;heputhishandonmybackaswewalked,andhedid
hisbesttocomfortmewhenIwasworriedaboutLandon.Thisisthefurthestwe
havegoneinour...friendship,orwhateverthisis.That’stheconfusingpart:I
knowwecan’tandnever willactuallydate,butmaybewhateverwearedoing
nowwillbegoodenough?Ihaveneverimaginedbeingsomeone’sfriendwith
benefits,butIknowIwon’tbeabletostayawayfromhim.Ihavetriedmany
timesnow,anditneverworks.
Alightknockonthedoorbringsmeoutofmythoughts.IexpecttoseeKaren
orHardin,butinsteadIfindLandonwhenIopenthedoor.Hishandsareinhis
pockets,andhishandsomefaceholdsasmall,awkwardsmile.
“Hey,”hesaysandIsmile.
“Hey,doyouwanttocomein?”Iaskhim,andhenods.
Iwalkoverandsitonthebed;hepullsthechairoutfromthesmalltablein
thecornerandtakesaseat.
“I—”webothsayatthesametimeandlaugh.
“Youfirst,”hesuggests.
“Okay, I am so sorry that you found out about Hardin and me that way. I
didn’tgoouttherewiththatintention.Iwasjustmakingsurehewasokay;this
whole dinner with his father was really getting to him and somehow we just
endedup...kissing.Iknowhowterribleitisofme,andIknowIamhorrible
forcheatingonNoah,butIamjustsoconfused,andItriedtostayawayfrom
Hardin.Ireallydid.”
“I’mnotjudgingyou,Tessa.Iwasjustsurprisedtoseeyoutwomakingouton
thedeck.IthoughtwhenIwalkedoutIwouldfindyouyellingateachother.”
Helaughsandcontinues.“Iknewsomethingwasupwithyoutwowhenyouhad
thatfightinthemiddleofLiteratureandthenwhenyoustayedlastweekend,and
thenwhenhecamebackandstartedafightwithme.Thesignswereallthere,
butIthoughtyouwouldtellme,thoughIdounderstandwhyyoudidn’t.”
Ifeelahugeweightliftoffmyshoulders.“You’renotmadatme?Orthink
anydifferentofme?”Iaskhimandheshakeshishead.
“No,ofcoursenot.IamworriedaboutyouandHardin,though.Idon’twant
him to hurt you, and I believe he will. I am sorry for saying that, but as your
friendIneedyoutoknowthathewill.”
Iwanttogetdefensiveandevenangry,butpartofmeknowsheisright.Ijust
hopesomehowheisn’t.
“SowhatareyougoingtodoaboutNoah?”
Igroan.“Ihavenoidea.IamafraidthatifIbreakupwithhimIwillregretit,
butwhatIamdoingtohimisn’tfair.Ijustneedalittletimetodecidewhatto
do.”
Henods.
“Landon,I’msorelievedthatyouaren’tmadatme.Iwasbeingajerkearlier.
Ijustdidn’tknowwhattosay.Iamsorry.”
“Me, too, I completely understand.” We both stand up and he hugs me. A
warmandcomfortinghugasthedooropens.
“Um . . . am I interrupting something?” Hardin’s voice travels through the
room.
“No,comein,”Itellhimandherollshiseyes.Ihopeheisstillinadecent
mood.
“Ibroughtyousomeclothestosleepin,”hetellsme.Heplacesasmallpileon
thebedandgoestowalkout.
“Thankyou,butyoucanstay.”Idon’twanthimtoleave.
HelooksatLandonandsnaps,“No,I’mgood,”beforeleavingtheroom.
“Heissomoody!”Iwhineandplopdownonthebed.
Landonchucklesandsitsbackdown.“Yeah,moodyisonewordforit.”
WebothburstintolaughterandthenLandonbeginstotalkaboutDakotaand
howhecan’twaitforhertocomevisitnextweekend.Ialmostforgotaboutthe
bonfire. Noah is coming. Maybe I should tell him not to. What if this change
between Hardin and me is all in my head? I feel like something has changed
betweenustoday,andhedidtellmehewantsmemorethanhehaseverwanted
anyone.Buthedidn’texactlysayhehasfeelingsforme,onlythathewantsme.
After an hour of Landon and I talking about everything from Tolstoy to the
Seattleskyline,hetellsmegoodnightandretreatstohisroom,leavingmealone
tomythoughtsandthesoundoftherain.
chapterfifty
IpickuptheclothesHardinbroughtmetowear:oneofhissignatureblackT-
shirts,apairofred-and-grayplaidpants,andsomelargeblacksocks.Ilaughat
theideaofHardinactuallywearingthose,butthenIrealizethesearelikelyfrom
thedresserofunwornclothes.Ilifttheshirtupanditsmellslikehim.Hehas
wornthisone,andrecently.Thesmellisintoxicating,mintyandindescribable,
butitismynewlyacquiredfavoritescentintheentireworld.Ichangeintothe
clothes,findingthepantsmuchtoobigbutverycomfortable.
Iliedownonthebedandpulltheblanketuptomychest,myeyesfixatedon
the ceiling as I relive the whole day in my mind. I feel myself drifting off to
sleep,todreamofgreeneyesandblackT-shirts.
“NO!!”Hardin’svoicejoltsmeawake.AmIhearingthings?
“Please!”heyellsagain.Ijumpoutofbedandrunacrossthehall.Myhands
findthecoldmetalofthedoorknobtoHardin’sroomand,thankGod,itopens.
“NO! Please . . .” he yells again. I didn’t think this through; if someone is
hurting him, I have no idea what I will do. I fumble around for the lamp and
switchiton.Hardinisshirtlessandtangledinthethickcomforter,thrashingand
tossing.Withoutthinking,Isitonthebedandreachforhisshoulder.Hisskinis
hot,toohot.
“Hardin!”Isayquietly,tryingtowakehim.Hisheadsnapstotheside,andhe
whimpersbutdoesn’twake.
“Hardin,wakeup!”Icryandshakehimharderwhilemybodymovestosit
astride his. Both of my hands go to his shoulders once more and I shake him
again.
Hiseyesflyopen;terrorfillsthemforabriefmomentbeforeconfusion,then
relief.Beadsofsweatcoverhisforehead.
“Tess,”hechokes.Thewayhesaysmynamebreaksmyheart,thenhealsit.
Withinsecondsheuntangleshisarmsandbringsthemtomyback,pushingme
forwardtolieonhischest.Thewetnessofhischeststartlesme,butIstayput.I
canhearhisheartbeating,pumpingrapidlyagainstmycheek.PoorHardin.Iput
bothofmyhandsonhissides,hugginghim.Hestrokesmyhairasherepeatsmy
nameoverandover,asifIamhistalismaninthedark.
“Hardin,areyouokay?”Mywordsarelowerthanawhisper.
“No,”heconfesses.Hischestisrisingandfallingslowerthanitwas,buthis
breathingisstillshallow.Idon’twanttopushhimtodiscusswhatterrorhehas
justdreamed.
Idon’taskhimifhewantsmetostay;somehowIknowhedoes.WhenIlift
uptoturnthelampoffhisbodystills.
“Iwasgoingtoswitchthelightoff,ordoyouwantiton?”Iaskhim.Oncehe
realizesmyintentionsherelaxes,lettingmereachfarthertothelamp.
“Off,please,”hebegs.Oncetheroomreturnstodarkness,Ilaymyheadback
on his chest. I would imagine lying this way, straddling his body would be
difficult,butitiscomfortingtohimandmeboth.Hearinghisheartbeatunder
thehardsurfaceofhischestiscalming,morecalmingthanthepatteroftherain
ontheroof.Iwoulddoanything,giveanything,tobeabletospendeverynight
withHardin,toliethiswaywithhim,tohavehisarmswrappedaroundmeand
hisbreathingslowinmyear.
I WAKE UP to Hardin shifting below me. I am still lying on top of him, my
kneesastridehim.Iliftmyheadfromwhereitrestsonhischestandencounter
hisdazzlinggreeneyes.InthelightofdayIamnotsureifIamwantedthewayI
waslastnight.Ican’treadhisexpression,whichleavesmynervestotakeover.I
movetoclimboffhim,sincemyneckfeelssorefromsleepingonhishardchest,
andIneedtostretchmylegsoutanyway.
“Goodmorning.”Hegivesmeadimpledsmile,soothingmyfear.
“Goodmorning.”
“Whereareyougoing?”heasks.
“Myneckhurts,”Isay,andhebringsmetolienexttohim,mybackpressed
againsthisfront.Hestartlesmebybringinghishandtomyneck,causingmeto
jump.Irecoverquicklyashishandbeginstorubmyneck.MyeyescloseandI
wincealittleathiscontactwiththeache,butthepainslowlydisappearsashe
massages.
Hespeaksbeforeme.“Thankyou.”
Iturnmyheadto lookathim.“Forwhat?”Maybeheistellingmetothank
himfortheneckrub?
“For...cominginhere.Forstaying.”Hischeeksflushandhiseyesdartaway
from mine. He is embarrassed. Hardin embarrassed; he never ceases to amaze
andconfuseme.
“Youdon’thavetothankme.Doyouwanttotalkaboutit?”Ihopehedoes.I
wanttoknowwhathedreamsabout.
“No,”hestatesplainly,andInod.Iwanttopushitfurther,butIknowwhat
willhappenifIdo.
“Iwilltalkabouthowincrediblysexyyoulookwearingmyshirt,though,”he
coosinmyear.Henudgesmyheadwithhisandbringshislipstomyskin.My
eyes close in response to his plump lips wrapping around my earlobe, gently
tugging. I can feel him hardening against me, making me feel drowsy in an
incredibleway.ThistypeofmoodswingisonethatIcanenjoy.
“Hardin,”Ichirpandhechucklesagainstmyneck.Hishandstraveldownmy
body;hebringshisthumbalongthewaistbandoftheoversizeplaidpajamas.My
pulsebeginstoquickenandIgaspashishandslidesdownthefrontofthepants.
Healwayshasthesameeffectonme;withinsecondsIfeelmyselfpoolinginmy
panties.Hisotherhandcupsmybreastandhehissesasheflickshisthumbover
mysensitivenipple,makingmegladIdecidednottosleepinmybra.
“Ican’tgetenoughofyou,Tess.”Hisraspyvoiceisevendeeper,filledwith
lust. His hand cups me over my panties and he pulls me as close to him as
possible. His erection presses against me. I reach down and take his hand,
removingitfrommypants.WhenIturntofacehim,afrowncovershisface.
“I...Iwanttodosomethingforyou,”Iwhisperslowly,embarrassed.
A smile overtakes the frown and he takes my chin in between his fingers,
forcingmetolookathim.
“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”heasks.Idon’tknow,exactly;IjustknowIwant
tomakehimfeelasgoodashedoesme.IwanttoseehimlosecontrollikeIdid
inthissameroom.
“I don’t know . . . what do you want me to do?” My lack of experience is
evidentinmytone.
Hardinputsmyhandsinhisandslidesthemdowntothebulgeinhispants.“I
reallywantthoseplumplipswrappedaroundme.”
Igaspathiswords,andfeelthepressureinbetweenmythighs.
“Is that something you want?” he asks, his hands moving circles over his
crotch.Hisdarkeyesregardme,gaugingmyreaction.
Inodandgulp,earningasmilefromhim.Hesitsupandpullsmetojoinhim.
Nervousness and want both flood my body. The loud jingle of his ringtone
echoesthroughtheroomandhegroansbeforesnatchinghisphoneoffthetable.
Hiseyesmeetthescreenandhesighs.
“I’llberightback,”heinformsmeanddisappearsoutoftheroom.Hereturns
afewminuteslaterandhismoodhaschangedoncemore.
“Karen is making breakfast. It’s almost finished.” He pulls open the dresser
andgrabsaT-shirt,tossingitoverhisheadwithoutlookinginmydirection.
“Okay.”Istandupandgotothedoor,needingtoputabraonbeforeIgosee
hisfamily.
“Seeyoudownstairs.”Histoneisemotionless.
Iswallowthelumprisinginmythroat.GuardedHardinismyleastfavorite
Hardin,evenlesslikedthanangryHardin.Whocalledhim,andwhydiditmake
himsodistant?Whycan’thejuststayinagoodmood?
I nod and walk across the hall, smelling bacon that causes my stomach to
grumble.
Iputmybraon,andpullthedrawstringontheplaidpantsastightasitwill
go. I contemplate putting my dress back on, but I really don’t want to be
uncomfortablethisearlyinthemorning.Checkingthelargemirroronthewall,I
runmyfingersthroughmyunrulyhairandwipethesleepfrommyeyes.
AsIclose the bedroomdoor, Hardin openshis.Insteadof looking athim,I
focus on the wallpaper and walk forward down the hall. I can hear his steps
behind me, and when I reach the staircase his hand wraps around my elbow,
pullingmegently.
“What’swrong?”heasks,worrycloudinghisfeatures.
“Nothing, Hardin,” I snap. I am overly emotional and I haven’t even had
breakfastyet.
“Tellme,”hedemands,dippinghisheadsothathisfaceisinfullview.
Igivein.“Whocalledyou?”
“Noone.”
Helies.“WasitMolly?”Idon’twanttoknowtheanswer.
Hedoesn’tsayanything,buthisexpressiongivesawaythatI’mright.Heleft
theroomasIwasaboutto...dothattohim...toansweraphonecallfrom
Molly?IshouldbemoresurprisedthanIam.
“Tessa,it’snot...”hebegins.Ipullmyarmfromhisgripandheclencheshis
jaw.
“Hey,guys.”Landonappearsinthehall,andIsmile.Hishairisstickingup
slightlyandhewearsplaidpantssimilartomine.Helooksadorableandsleepy.I
pass Hardin and move toward Landon. I refuse to let Hardin know how
embarrassed and hurt I am by him answering Molly’s call while we were
togetherlikethat.
“How did you sleep last night?” Landon asks and I follow him down the
stairs,leavingafrustratedHardintohimself.
Karen has gone all out on breakfast, like I could have predicted she would.
Hardin joins us at the table a few minutes later, but I’ve already piled eggs,
bacon,toast,awaffle,andafewgrapesonmyplate.
“Thankyousomuchformakingthisbreakfastforus,”ItellKarenonmine
andHardin’sbehalf;Iknowhewon’tbebotheredwiththankingher.
“It’smypleasure,dear—howdidyousleep?Ihopethestormdidn’tkeepyou
awake.”Shesmiles.
Hardintensesbesideme,probablyworriedIwillmentionhisnightmare.He
shouldknowbynowIwouldneverdothat,sohislackoftrustonlybothersme
more.
“Isleptgreat,actually. Isuredidn’tmissmybedinmydorm!” I laughand
everyonejoinsme, everyone exceptHardin,ofcourse. He takesadrink of his
orangejuiceandkeepshiseyesfocusedonthewall.Mindlessbreakfastchatter
fillsthediningroomasKenandLandonbanteraboutsomefootballgame.
AFTER BREAKFAST, I help Karen clean up the kitchen once more. Hardin
hoversinthedoorway,notofferingtohelpbutjustwatchingme.
“If you don’tmind me asking, is that a greenhouse in the backyard?” I ask
Karen.
“Whyyes, it is.I haven’tdonemuch withitthis year, but Iabsolutely love
gardening. You should have seen it last summer,” she says. “Do you like to
garden?”
“Oh, yes, my mother has a greenhouse out back as well and it was where I
spentmostofmyfreetimeasachild.”
“Really? Well, maybe if you two come around more often, we could make
somethingoutofmine,”shesays.Sheissokind,andloving.EverythingIwishI
hadinamother.
Ismile.“Thatwouldbelovely.”
Hardin disappears momentarily, and when he returns he clears his throat
loudly.Webothturntolookathim.
“We should get going soon,” he says and I frown. He has my clothes and
purseinhishands,holdingoutmyToms.It’salittleweirdhedoesn’tgivemea
moment to change out of the pajamas, and a little discomforting that he went
throughmythings,butIoverlookit.WesayourgoodbyesandIhugKarenand
KenwhileHardinwaitsimpatientlybythedoor.
I promise them that we will return soon, and hope that it will come true. I
knewmytimehere would end,butithasbeen such anicedeparturefrom my
normallife,nolists,noalarms,noobligations.Iamnotreadyforittoend.
chapterfifty-one
Thecarrideisawkward.Iholdmyclothesonmylapandstareoutthewindow,
waitingtoseeifHardinisgoingtobreakthesilencethathangsbetweenus.He
makesno moveto speak so I pullmy phoneout ofmy purse. It’soff;itmust
havediedlastnight.Itrytoturnitonanywayandthescreencomestolife.Iam
relievedtofindthatIhavenonewvoicemailsortexts.Theonlynoiseinthecar
isthelightrainandtheslowscreechofthewindshieldwipers.
“Areyoustillmad?”hefinallyasksashepullsontocampus.
“No,”Ilie.Iamnotexactlymad,justhurt.
“Itsureseemslikeyouare.Don’tactlikeachild.”
“Well,Iamnot.Icouldn’tcarelessifyouwanttodropmeoffsoyoucango
hookupwithMolly.”ThewordstumblefrommymouthbeforeIcanstopthem.
IhatethewayIfeelabouthimandMolly.Itmakesmesicktomystomachto
thinkofthemtogether.Whatisitabouther,anyway?Herpinkhair?Hertattoos?
“That’snotwhatIamdoing.Notthatit’syourbusiness,”hescoffs.
“Yeah,well,youjumpedtoansweryourphonewhenIwasaboutto...well,
youknow,”Imutter.Ishouldhavejuststayedquiet.Idon’twanttofightwith
Hardin right now. Especially when I don’t know when I will see him again. I
really wish he hadn’t dropped Literature. He just pushes my buttons, every
singleone.
“Itisn’tlikethat,Theresa,”hesays.
SowearebacktoTheresa?
“Really,Hardin?Itseemslikeitistome.Idon’treallygiveacrapanyway.I
knew it wouldn’tlast,” I finally admit to him and myself. The reason I didn’t
wanttoleavehisfather’shouseisthatIknewonceitwasjustHardinandme,it
wouldgobacktothis.Italwaysdoes.
“Whatwouldn’tlast?”
“This...us.Youbeingdecenttome.”Idon’tdaretolookathim;that’show
hegetsmetoturntoputtyeverytime.
“Sowhatthen?You’regoingtoavoidmeforanotherweek?Webothknow
thatbythisweekendyou’llbebackinmybed,”hesnaps.
Hesurelydidnotjustsaythat.
“Ex-cuseme?!”Ishout.Iamatalossforwords.Noonehasevertalkedtome
thewayhehas—noonehaseverbeensodisrespectful.Tearsbrimovermyeyes
asthecarslowstopark.
Beforehecanrespond,Iopenthedoor,grabmythings,andbolttowardmy
room. I cut across the soaking grass and curse at myself for not taking the
sidewalk,butIjust needtogetasfarawayfromHardinaspossible.Whenhe
saidhewantsme,hemeantsexually.Iknewthisbutithurtstoletitsoakin.
“Tessa!”Ihearhimcall.OneofSteph’sheelsdropsandfallstothegroundbut
Ikeeprunning.Iwillgetheranewpair.
“Damnit,Tessa!Stop!”heyellsagain.Ihadn’texpectedhimtofollowme.I
pushmyselftorunfaster,andfinallyIreachmybuildingandrundownthehall.
BythetimeIreachmydormroom,Iamfull-onsobbing.Iyankthedooropen,
thenslamitshutbehindme.MytearsmixwiththerainandIturntolookformy
bathtoweltocleanoffwith—
AndamfrozeninplacewhenIseeNoahsittingonmybed.
OhGod,notnow.Hardinwillbecrashingthroughthedooranysecond.
Noahgetsupandrushestowardme.“Tessa,whatiswrong?Wherehaveyou
been?”Hishandtriestocupmycheek,butIturnmyhead.Painflashesinhis
eyesasIturnawayfromhistouch.
“It’s...Iamsosorry,Noah,”IcryasHardinyanksthedooropen,thehinges
squeakingandcrackingfromhismight.
Noah’s eyes widen and narrow as his gaze meets Hardin’s. He backs away
from me with a horrified expression. Hardin tosses the high heel that I left
behindandwalksfartherintotheroomwithoutacknowledgingNoah’spresence
atall.
“Ididn’tmeanthat,whatIjustsaid,”hesays.
Noah looks at me, hatred laced through his voice as he exclaims, “That’s
whereyouwere?Youwerewithhimallnight?Arethosehisclothes?Itriedto
callyouandtextyouallnightandallmorning—Ileftyoucountlessvoicemails
andyouwerewithhim?”
“What? I—” I start, but then turn to Hardin. “You went through my phone,
didn’t you? You deleted the messages!” I shout at him. My head tells me to
answerNoah,butmyheartisfocusedonlyonHardin.
“Yeah...Idid,”headmits.
“Why the hell would you do that? You can answer Molly’s calls, but you
deletemymessagesfrommyboyfriend?!”
HewincesasIcallNoahmyboyfriend.
“Howdareyouplaythesegameswithme,Hardin!”Iscream,sobbingagain.
Noahgrabsmywristandturnsmetofacehim,whichonlypromptsHardinto
shoveNoahbackbyhisshoulders.
“Donottouchher,”hegrowls.
Thisisnothappening.Iwatchasthedaytimesoapoperathathasbecomemy
lifeunfoldsinfrontofme.
“You don’t tell me what to do with my girlfriend, you prick,” Noah says
angrily,andshovesHardin.
Hardin advances toward Noah once more, but I grab his shirt and pull him
back.MaybeIshouldletthemfighteachother.Hardindeservesagoodpunchin
thejaw.
“Stopit!Hardin,justgo!”Iwipemytears.
HardinglaresatNoahagainandmovestostandinfrontofme.Ireachover
andgentlyplacemypalmagainstHardin’sback,hopingitmayhelpcalmhim.
“No, I’m not leaving this time, Tessa. I have already done that too many
times.”Hesighsandrunshisfingersthroughhishair.
“Tessa,makehimleave!”Noahbegs,butIignorehim.Ihavetoknowwhat
Hardinwillsay.
“Ididn’tmeanwhat Isaid inthe car, and I don’tknow why I took Molly’s
phonecall.It’sahabit,Iguess—pleasejustgivemeanotherchance.Iknowyou
have already given me too many chances, but I just need one more. Please,
Tess.”Heletsoutabigbreath.Hesoundsexhausted.
“WhyshouldI,Hardin?Ihavecontinuedtogiveyouchancestobemyfriend
overandover,”Itellhim.“Idon’tthinkIhaveitinmetotryagain.”Iamfaintly
awareofNoahgapingatus,butatthemomentIdon’tcare.Iknowthisiswrong
—I’mwrong—butI’veneverwantedanythingsomuchinmylife.
“Idon’tjustwanttobefriends...Iwantmore.”Hiswordsknockthewind
rightoutofme.
“No,youdon’t.”Hardindoesn’tdate,mysubconsciouswarns.
“Yes,Ido.Ido.”
“Yousaidyoudon’tdateandthatIwasn’tyourtype,”Iremindhim.Mymind
still can’t wrap itself around the fact that I am having this conversation with
Hardin,infrontofNoah,atthat.
“Youaren’tmytype,justthewaythatIamnotyours.Butthat’swhyweare
goodforeachother—wearesodifferent,yetwe’rethesame.Youtoldmeonce
thatIbringouttheworstinyou.Well,youbringoutthebestinme.Iknowyou
feelit,too,Tessa.Andyes,Ididn’tdate,untilyou.Youmakemewanttodate,
youmakemewanttobebetter.IwantyoutothinkIamworthyofyou;Iwant
youtowantmethewayIdoyou.Iwanttofightwithyou,evenscreamateach
otheruntiloneofusadmitswearewrong.Iwanttomakeyoulaugh,andlisten
toyourambleaboutclassicnovels.Ijust...Ineedyou.IknowIamcruelat
times...well,allthetime,butthat’sonlybecauseIdon’tknowhowelsetobe.”
Hisvoicebecomesahalfwhisper,hiseyeswild.“Thishasbeenmeforsolong,I
haveneverwantedtobeanyotherway.Untilnow,untilyou.”
I am dumbfounded. He’s said everything I wanted him to say but never
imaginedthatheactuallywould.ThisisnottheHardinIknow,butthewayhis
words came out in a rushed string, and the heavy breathing that accompanied
them,somehowmakeitallthemoretrueandnatural.
IamnotsurehowIamstillstandingafterhisdeclaration.
“Whatthehell?Tessa?”Noahsaysfrantically.
“Youshouldgo,”Iwhisper,notbreakingeyecontactwithHardin.
Noahstepsforwardand crowswithvictory. “Thank you!I thoughtthatwas
nevergoingtoend.”
Hardinlooksheartbroken,absolutelycrushed.
“Noah,Isaidyoushouldgo,”Irepeat.
Bothmensuckinasharpbreath.ReliefwashesoverHardinandIreachfor
hishands,threadingmysmallfingersthroughhistremblingones.
“What?” Noah shouts. “You can’t be serious, Tessa! We have known each
othersolong—thisguyisjustusingyou.Hewilltossyouasideassoonasheis
donewithyou,andIloveyou!Don’tmakethismistake,Tessa,”hebegs.
Ifeelfor him, andithurts me todothis to him,butI know Ican’tbe with
Noah.IwantHardin.MorethananythingI’veeverwantedinmylife.
AndHardinwantsme.Morewithme.
My heart flutters again and I look at Noah, who opens his mouth to say
something.
“Iwouldstoptalking.Now,”Hardinwarnshim.
“Iamsosorrythatithappenedthisway,Ireallyam,”Isay.
Hedoesn’tsayanythingelse.Helooksbrokenashepicksupthebackpackhe
broughtandleavesmyroom.
“Tessa...I...Youreallydofeelthesameway?”HardingaspsandInod.
Howcouldhenotknowthisbynow?
“Nonodding,pleasesayit.”Desperationfuelshiswords.
“Yeah,HardinIdo,”Isay.Idon’thaveabeautifulormeaningfulspeechlike
hedid,butthosesimplewordsseemtobeenoughforhim.
ThesmileIreceivehealssomeofthepainIfeelfrombreakingNoah’sheart.
“Sowhatdowedonow?”heasks.“I’mnewatthis.”Heflushes.
“Kissme,”Isayandhepullsmetohischest,hishandfistingtheloosefabric
ofhisshirtonmyback.Hislipsarecoolandhistongueiswarmasitslipsinto
mymouth.Despitethechaosthatjustoccurredinmysmallroom,Ifeelcalm.
This feels like a dream. I somehow know it is the calm before the storm, but
rightnowHardinismyanchor.Ijustpraythathedoesn’tpullmeunder.
chapterfifty-two
WhenHardinfinallybreaksourkiss,hesitsonmybedandIjoinhim.
We’requietforafewminutes,soIbegintofeelnervous,likethereissome
wayIshouldbebehavingnowthatweare...more,butIhavenocluewhatway
thatis.
“Whatdoyouhaveplannedfortherestoftheday?”heasks.
“Nothing,juststudying,”Isay.
“Cool.”Heclickshistongueontotheroofofhismouth.Heseemsnervous,
too,andIamgladitisn’tjustme.
“Comehere.”Hardinbeckonsmeandopenshisarms.
ThemomentIsitonhislap,thedooropensandhegroans.Steph,Tristan,and
Nateallpourin andthenstareatusasIclimboffHardinandsitontheother
sideofthebed.
“Soareyouguyslikefuckbuddiesnow?”Natesaysplainly.
“No!Wearen’t!”Isqueak.Idon’tknowwhatIshouldtellthem,soIjustwait
forHardintosaysomething.HestaysquietasTristanandNatebegintotalkto
himaboutthepartylastnight.
“ItseemsIdidn’tmissmuch,”Hardinsaystothem,andNateshrugs.
“UntilMollygaveusastripshow;shegotcompletelynaked,youshouldhave
been there,” Nate replies. I cringe and look toward Steph, who is staring at
Tristan,probablyhopingheisn’tgoingtocommentonMollybeingnaked.
Hardinsmiles.“NothingIhaven’tseenbefore.”
Igasp,thentrytoconcealitasacough.Hedidnotjustsaythat.
Hisfacefalls,seemingtounderstandwhathejustdid.
Maybe this was a terrible idea; it is already sort of awkward, and now that
everyoneisintheroomit’smagnified.Whydidn’thetellthemweweredating?
Arewedating?Idon’treallyunderstand,myself.Ithoughtafterhisconfession
that we were, but we never actually said it. Maybe we don’t need to? This
uncertaintyisalreadydrivingmecrazy;theentiretimeIhavebeenwithNoahI
haveneverhadtoworryabouthisfeelingsforme.Ineverhadtodealwithex-
friends with benefits—I am the only girl Noah has ever kissed in his life, and
honestlyIlikeitthatway.IwishHardinhadneverdoneanythingwithanother
girl,oratleasthaddonethingswithfewerofthem.
“We’regoingbowlingafterIchange.Doyouwanttocome?”StephasksandI
shakemyhead.
“I have to catch up on my studying. I have barely gotten any done this
weekend,” I tell her and look away as the memories of this weekend flood
throughmymind.
“Youshouldcome,itwillbefun,”Hardinsays,butIshakemyhead.Ireally
needtostayin,andIwassortofhopinghewouldstaywithme.Stephstepsinto
theclosetandreturnsafewminuteslaterwithdifferentclotheson.
“Ready,guys?You’resureyoudon’twanttocome?”sheasksme.
Inod.“I’msure.”
Theyallgetuptoleave,andHardingivesmeawaveandasmallsmilebefore
exitingthe room.I’m disappointedwith Hardin’s goodbye, and hope thathe’d
madetheseplansbeforethisweekendtogetherandthedramatoday.
Butwhat didI expect?For him to rush over and kiss me, tellme hewould
miss me? I laugh at the thought. I don’t know if anything will even change
betweenHardinandmebesidesusactivelytryingtoavoidoneanother.Iamtoo
usedtohowthingsarewithNoah,soIhavenoideahowthisisgoingtobe,and
Ihatenothavingcontrolovereverysituation.
Afteran hour ofstudying and attemptingto take anap, I grabmy phoneto
text Hardin. Wait, I don’t even have his number. I had never thought about it
before;wehavenevertalkedonthephoneortextedbefore.Weneverneededto;
we couldn’t stand each other. This is going to be more complicated than I
thought.
Icallmymothertocatchupwithher,andmostlytoseeifNoahhastoldher
what happened yet. He would be arriving back home soon from the two-hour
drive,andIamsurehewon’twasteanytimetellinghereverything.Sheanswers
with a simple hello, so I know she has no clue yet. I tell her about my failed
attempt to get a car, and the possible internship with Vance. Of course, she
remindsmethatIhavebeenatcollegeoveramonthandIstillhaven’tfounda
car. I roll my eyes andlet her continue to rambleon about whatshe has been
doingthelastweek.MyphonelightsupwhileIamlisteningtoher.Iplaceher
onspeakerphoneandreadthetext.
You should have come with us, with me, the message reads. My heart swells; it’s
Hardin.
Pretendingtolistentomymother,Imumble“Hmm...oh...”afewtimes
whileItexthimback.
Youshouldhavestayed,Isend.Istareatthescreen,waitingforhimtoreply.
Iamcomingtopickyouup,herepliesafterwhatseemslikeforever.
What?No,Idon’twanttogobowling,you’realreadythere.Juststay.
Ialreadyleft.Beready.Boy,he’sdemanding,eventhroughtextmessages.
MymotherisstilltalkingandIhavenoideawhatabout.Istoppedlistening
onceHardintextedme.“Mom,Iwillcallyouback,”Iinterrupt.
“Why?”sheaskswithsurpriseanddisdain.
“I...um...well,Ispilledcoffeeonmynotes.Igottago.”
I hang up and hastily go into the closet, pulling Hardin’s pajamas off and
grabbingmynewjeansandaplainpurpletop.Ibrushoutmyhair,whichlooks
decentconsideringithasn’tbeenwashed.Icheckthetimeandgodowntothe
bathroomtobrushmyteeth,andwhenIreturnHardiniswaitingonmybed.
“Wherewereyou?”heasks.
“Brushingmyteeth,”Itellhimandputmytoiletrybagaway.
“Ready?”Hestandsupandwalkstowardme.Ihalfexpecthimtohugme,but
hedoesn’t.Hejustmovestothedoor.
Inodandgrabmypurseandphone.
Whenwegettohiscar,hekeepstheradiodownashedrives.Ireallydon’t
wanttogotothebowlingalley. Ihatebowling,butIwanttospendtimewith
him.Idon’tlikehowcodependentIalreadyfeel.
“How long do you think we will be there?” I ask after a few minutes of
silence.
“Idon’tknow...why?”Helookssidewaysatme.
“Idon’tknow...Idon’treallycareforbowling.”
“It won’t be too bad. Everyone’s there,” he assures me. I hope everyone
doesn’tincludepart-timehoMolly.
“Iguess,”Imumbleandlookoutthewindow.
“Youdon’twanttogo?”Hisvoiceisquiet.
“Notreally,that’swhyIsaidnothefirsttime.”Ilaughalittlenonlaugh.
“Let’sgosomewhereelse,then?”
“Where?”Iamirritatedwithhim,butI’mnotsurewhy.
“Myhouse,”hesuggestsandIsmileandnod.Hissmilegrows,showingthe
dimplesthatIhave grownsofondof.“Myhouseitis,then.”He reachesover
andputshishandonmythigh.Myskinwarms,andIputmyhandoverhis.
Fifteenminuteslaterwearepullinguptothelargefraternityhouse.Ihaven’t
beenheresinceHardinandIfoughtandIwalkedbacktothedorms.Asheleads
meupthestairs,noneoftheguysbotherstolooktwiceatus;theymustbeused
toseeingHardinbringagirlhome.Mystomachpingsatthethought.Ineedto
stopthinkingthisway,becauseit’sgoingtodrivemeinsaneandthereisnothing
Icandotochangeit.
“Hereweare,”Hardinsaysandunlockshisdoor.Ifollowhiminsideandhe
turns the light on, kicking his boots offhis feet and onto the floor. He moves
overtohisbedandpatsthespotnexttohim.
AsIwalktowardhim,mycuriositygetsthebestofme.“WasMollythere?At
thebowlingalley?”IlookouthiswindowasIaskhim.
“Yeah,ofcourseshewas,”heanswerscasually.“Why?”
IsitdownonthesoftbedandHardinpullsmebymyanklesclosertohim.I
laughandslidecloser,mybackflatagainstthebed,puttingmykneesupandmy
feetontheothersideofhislegs.
“Iwasjustwondering...”Itellhimandhegrins.
“Sheisalwaysgoingtobearound;she’sapartofourgroup.”
Iknowit’ssillyofmetobethisjealousofher,butshejustbothersme.She
actslikeshelikes me,whenIknowshedoesn’t,andIknowshelikesHardin.
Nowthatweare...whateverweare,Idon’twanthernearhim.
“Youaren’tlikeworriedthatIwillfuckher,areyou?”
Iswathisarmathisuseofwords.Ilovethewaydirtywordssoundcoming
offhislips,butnotwhenshe’sinvolved.
“No,well,I...maybe.Ijustknowyouhavebefore,andIdon’twantyouto
again,” I say. I am sure he is going to mock my jealousy, so I turn my head
sideways.
Hishandgoestomykneeandhesqueezesgently.“Iwouldn’tdothat...not
now.Don’tworryabouther,okay?”Hiswordsaregentle,andIbelievehim.
“Whydidn’tyoutellanyoneaboutus?”IknowIshouldjustshutmymouth,
butithasbeenbotheringme.
“Idon’tknow...Iwasn’tsureifyouwantedmeto.Besides,whatwedois
ourbusiness.Nottheirs,”heexplains.Hisanswerismuchbetterthanwhatwas
goingthroughmymind.
“Iguessyou’reright.Ithoughtmaybeyouwereembarrassedorsomething?”I
sayandhelaughs.
“Why would I possibly be embarrassed by you? Look at you.” His eyes
darkenandhemoveshishandtomystomach.Hisfingerstugupmyshirtandhe
drawscirclesonmybareskinwithhisdigits.Goosebumpsraisemyskinandhe
smiles.
“I love the way your body responds to me,” he breathes. I know what is
comingnext,andIcan’twait.
chapterfifty-three
Hardin’sfingerstrailfartherupmyshirt,causingmybreathtoquicken.Asmile
creepsontohisbeautifulfaceashebecomesaware.
“Onetouchand you’realreadypanting,” his raspyvoice whispers. Heleans
over,movingmyfeetoffhislapsothathecanbringhismouthtomyneck.His
tonguemakesaflatstripedownmyneckandIquiver.Myfingersthreadintohis
curlsandItugashenipsatmyskin.Oneofhishandsslidesdowninbetween
mylegsbutIgrabhiswristtostophim.
“What’swrong?”heasks.
“Nothing...IjustthoughtthatIwoulddosomethingforyouthistime?”
Ilookaway,buthisfingerscupmychinsoIamforcedtomakeeyecontact
withhim.Hetriestohidehissmirk,butIcatchhim.
“Andwhatwouldyouliketodoforme?”
“Well...IthoughtIcould,youknow,whatyousaidtheotherday?”Idon’t
knowwhyIamsoshywithwordswhenHardinsaysanythingandeverythinghe
isthinking,butthewords“blowjob”arenotinmyvocabulary.
“Youwanttosuckmycock?”heasks,clearlysurprised.
Iamofficiallyhorrified.Yetsomehowturnedon.“Um...yeah.Imeanifyou
want me to?” I hope as our relationship progresses I will be able to say these
thingstohim.IwouldlovetobecomfortableenoughwithHardintobeableto
feelthatsortofbravery,totellhimexactlywhatIwanttodotohim.
“OfcourseIwantyou to.I’vewantedyourlipsaroundmesinceI firstsaw
you.”I’moddlyflatteredbyhiscruderemark,butthenheasks,“Areyousure,
though?Haveyouever...evenseenadickbefore?”
I’msureheknowstheanswertothat;maybehe’sjusttryingtogetmetosay
it?
“OfcourseIhave.Notarealone,butpictures,andIoncewalkedinonthe
neighbor watching a naughty movie,” I tell him and he stifles a laugh. “Stop
laughingatme,Hardin,”Iwarnhim.
“I’mnot,baby,I’msorry.It’sjustIhavenevermetanyonewhohassuchlittle
experience. It’s a good thing, though, I swear. Sometimes your innocence just
throwsmeoffabit.Butwiththatbeingsaid,it’s a huge turn-on that I am the
onlyonewhohasevermadeyoucome,yourselfincluded.”Hedoesn’tlaughthis
time,whichmakesmefeelbetter.
“Okay...solet’sgetstarted.”
Hesmilesandruns histhumbalongmycheek.“Sosassy,Ilikeit,”hesays
andstandsup.
“Whereareyougoing?”Iaskhimandhesmiles.
“Nowhere,Iamjusttakingmypantsoff.”
“I wanted to do that,” I say with a pout and he chuckles and tugs his pants
backup.
“Hereyago,babe.”Heputshishandsonhiships.
I smile and move forward, pulling his pants down. Should I pull down his
boxers,too?Hardintakesastepbackandputshisheelsagainsthisbedbefore
sittingdown.Idroptomykneesinfrontofhimandhetakesadeepbreath.
“Comecloser,babe.”
Iscootcloserandplacemyhandsonhisbentknees.
“Areyouokay?”heaskscarefully.
Inodandhepullsmeupbymyelbows.
“Let’sjustkissforaminute,okay?”hesuggestsandpullsmeontopofhim.
I have to admit I’m relieved. I still want to do this, I just need a minute to
process, and kissing will make me more comfortable. He kisses me, slowly at
first,butwithinsecondstheelectricitybuildsandtakesoverme.Igriphisarms
hardunder myfingertips androck backand forthon his lap. The bulge in his
thinboxersgrowsandItuggentlyonhishair.IwishIwouldhavewornaskirt
soIcouldliftitupandfeelhimagainstme...I’mshockedbymyownthoughts
asIreachdownandpalmhimthroughhisboxers.
“Fuck, Tessa. If you keep doing that, I will come in my boxers again,” he
moansandIstop,climbingoffhim.Imovetogetonmykneesagain.
“Take your jeans off,” he instructs, and I nod before unbuttoning them and
slidingthemdownmylegs.Feelingbrave,Ipullmyshirtovermyheadandtoss
itaside.HardintakeshislipbetweenhisteethasImovebackdowninfrontof
him.Myfingersgripthewaistbandofhisboxersandtugasheliftsoffthebed
enoughformetopullthemdown.
IcanfeelmyeyeswidenandhearmyowngaspasHardin’smanhoodcomes
intoview.Wow,it’sbig.MuchbiggerthanIexpected.HowamIgoingtoeven
getitintomymouth?
IstareforafewsecondsuntilIreachoutandtouchitwithmyindexfinger.
Hardinchucklesasitmovesslightlybutbouncesrightback.
“How...Imean...whatshouldIdofirst?”Istutter.Iamintimidatedbythe
sizeofhim,butIwanttodothis.
“I’llshowyou.Here...wrapyourfingerslikelasttime...”
MyfingersgoaroundhimandIwigglethemalittle.Theskincoveringhimis
much softer than I expected. I know I’m poking it and examining it like a
scienceproject,butthisissonewtome,italmostfeelslikeone.
Igripitlightlyandmovemyhandupanddownslowly.“Likethis?”Iask,and
Hardinnods,hischestrisingandfalling.
“Now...justputyourmoutharoundit.Notallofit,well,ifyoucan...but
justputasmuchasyoucan.”
Itakeadeepbreathandleandown.Openingmymouth,Itakehimin,only
about halfway. He hisses and his hands move to my shoulders. I pull back
slightlyandtastesomethingsalty.Isthatcomealready?Thetastegoesawayand
Imovemyheadupanddown.SomeinstinctthatIwasn’tawareoftellsmeto
movemytongueupanddownhisshaftasImove.
“Holyfuck.Yeah,likethat,”HardingroansandIrepeattheaction.Hisgripon
my shoulders tightens, and his hips rock upward to meet my mouth. I push
myself farther, taking almost all of him in, and look up at him. His eyes are
rolledtothebackofhisheadandhelooksheavenly.Theleanmuscleunderneath
histattooedskinispulling,makingthescriptacrosshisribsmoveslowly.Iturn
myfocusbacktosuckingandmovealittlefaster.
“Useyourhandon...ontherest...”hegaspsandIoblige.Myhandmoves
upanddownonthebottomofhimasmymouthworksthetop.Isuckmycheeks
inandhegroansagain.
“Fuck . . . fuck. Tessa. I am . . . I am so close,” he says, straining. “If you
don’twantitinyourmouth...then...you...havetostop.”
Ilookupathim,keepinghiminmymouth.Ilovethewayheislosingcontrol
becauseofme.
“Shit...keeplooking...atme.”Hisbodytensesashewatchesme.Ibatmy
eyelashes,givingthefulleffect.Hardincursesmynamerepeatedly,beautifully,
andIfeela slight jerk inmymouthand a warm, saltyliquidshootsdownmy
throatinshortspurts. Igagandpullback.Itdidn’ttasteas badasIthoughtit
would,butitdefinitelydoesn’ttastegood.Hishandsmovefrommyshouldersto
mycheeks.
He’soutofbreathanddazed.“How...wasit?”
Iclimboffmykneesandsitnexttohimonthebed.Hisarmswraparoundme
and he lays his head on my shoulder. “I thought it was nice,” I say, and he
laughs.
“Nice?”
“It was fun, sort of. To see you that way. And it didn’t taste as bad as I
thought,”Iconfess.IshouldbeembarrassedthatIjustadmittedtolikingit,but
I’mnot.“Howwasitforyou?”Iasknervously.
“Iwassoverypleasantlysurprised—thebestheadIhaveevergotten.”
Iblushathiswords.“Sureitwas.”Ilaugh.Iappreciatehimtryingtomake
mefeelbetteraboutmylackofexperience.
“No,really.Thewayyouareso...pure,itdoessomethingtome.Andfuck,
whenyoulookedupatme—”
“Okay!Okay!”Icuthimoffandwavemyhandathim.Idon’twanttorelive
everydetailofmyfirsttimedoingthis.Hechucklesandgentlypushesmeback
againstthemattress.
“Nowletmemakeyoufeelasgoodasyoudidme,”hegrowlsinmyearand
suckstheskinonmyneck.Hisfingershookintomypantiesandtugthemdown.
“Doyouwantmyfingerormytongue?”hewhispersseductively.
“Both,”Ianswerandhesmiles.
“Asyouwish.”Hedipshisheaddown.Iwhimperandtugathishairagain.I
do that a lot to him, but he seems to like it. My back arches off the bed, and
within minutes I’m in a completely euphoric state, calling Hardin’s name as I
comeundone.
AFTERMYBREATHINGSLOWS,Isitup and bring myfingerstotracethe
dark ink on his chest. He watches me carefully but doesn’t stop me. He stays
quietasheliesdownnexttome,lettingmeenjoymysedatedstate.
“No one has ever touched me this way,” he says, and I swallow all the
questions I want to ask him. Instead of interrogating him, I give him a small
smileandaquickkissonhischest.
“Staywithmetonight?”heasksandIshakemyhead.
“Ican’t;tomorrowisMondayandwehaveclasses.”Iwanttostaywithhim
butnotonaSunday.
Hislookissoft.“Please.”
“Idon’thaveanyclothestoweartomorrow.”
“Wearthose;pleasestaywithme.Justonenight.Ipromiseyouwillmakeitto
yourclassesontime.”
“Idon’tknow...”
“Iwilleven make sureyougetthere fifteen minutesearlyand have enough
timetostopbythecoffeehouseandmeetLandon,”hesaysandmylipspart.
“HowdoyouknowIdothat?”
“I watch you . . . I mean not all the time. But I notice you more than you
think,”hetellsmeandmyheartswells.I’mfallingforhim,hardandfast.
“I’llstay,”Itellhimbutholdmyhanduptocontinue.“Ononecondition.”
“What’sthat?”
“ComebacktoLiterature,”Iask,andheraiseshiseyebrow.
“Done.”
Ismileathissimpleanswerandhepullsmeclosertohischest.
chapterfifty-four
After lying in Hardin’s arms for a few minutes, I begin to think about my
agreementtostaywithHardintonight.
“Whataboutmyshowerinthemorning?”Iremindhim.
“Youcantakeonehere,downthehall.”Hislipsmeetmyjaw,trailingkisses
upanddown.Hislipsonmyskincausemyjudgmenttocloud;heknowsexactly
whatheisdoing.
“Inafrathouse?Whoknowswhowillcomein.”
“One,thedoorlocks,andtwo,Iwouldaccompanyyou,obviously,”hesays
betweenkisses.
Iscowlathistonebutdecidetoignoreit.“Fine.ButI’dliketotakeashower
now,beforeitgetstoolate.”
Henodsandstandsupandreachesforhisjeans.Iclimboffthebedanddothe
same,leavingmypantiesoff.
“Nopanties?”Hesmirks.
Ignoringhim, I rollmy eyesand say,“Do you haveshampoo? I don’teven
haveahairbrush.”I am startingtogetanxiousthinking of allthethingsthatI
don’thavewithme.“AndQ-tips?Dentalfloss?”Icontinue.
“Relax,wehaveQ-tipsandfloss.Weprobablyevenhaveanextratoothbrush,
andIknowthereis ahairbrushortwointhere.Thereareprobably evenextra
pantiesineverysizelyingaboutsomewhere,ifyouwantsome,”heinformsme.
“Panties?”IaskbeforeIrealizehemeanstheywereleftbyothergirls.“Never
mind,”Isayandhelaughs.IhopeHardindoesn’thavesomeweirdcollectionof
underwearfromgirlshehassleptwith.
Heleadsmetothebathroom.IfeelmorecomfortableinherethanIimagined,
onlybecauseIhavebeeninthisbathroomquiteafewtimes.
Hardinturnsonthewaterandpullshisshirtoverhishead.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iask.
“Takingashower?”
“Oh,IthoughtIwastakingonefirst.”
“Takeonewithme,”hesayscasually.
“Um...no!Iwon’t.”Ilaugh.Ican’ttakeashowerwithhim.
“Whynot?I’vealreadyseenyou,youhaveseenme.What’sthebigdeal?”he
groans.
“Idon’tknow...Ijustdon’twantto.”Iknowhehasalreadyseenmenaked
butthisjustseemssointimate.Moreintimateeventhanwhatwejustdid.
“Fine.Yougofirst,then,”hesays,buthisvoicehaspickedupaslightedge.
Ismilesweetlyandignorehissourtoneandundress.Hiseyesscanmybody
and then look away. My hand reaches behind the curtain to check the
temperatureofthewaterandIstepin.
Hardinstayssilentwhile I wetmyhair.Toosilent. “Hardin?” I call.Didhe
leavethebathroom?
“Yeah?”
“Ithoughtmaybeyouleft.”
Hepullsbackthecurtainalittleandpopshiswavyheadin.“Nope,stillhere.”
“Is something wrong?” I ask him, frowning sympathetically. He shakes his
head in response but doesn’t say anything. Is he really pouting like a child
becauseIwon’ttakeashowerwithhim?Ialmostwanttotellhimtojoinme,but
Iwanthimtogetthepointthathecan’tjustgethiswayallthetime.Hishead
disappearsfromtheshowerandIhearhimsitdownonthetoilet.
Theshampooandbodywasharebothstrongmuskyscents.Imissmyvanilla
shampoo,butthisisfineforonenight.Itprobablywouldhavemademoresense
for Hardin to stay with me in my room, but Steph would be in there, and it
wouldbeawkwardtoexplaineverything,andIdon’timagineHardinwouldbe
asaffectionateifshewasaround.Thethoughtbothersme,butIpushitback.
“Couldyouhandmeatowel?”Iaskhimandshutoffthewater.“Ortwo,if
youhaveenough.”Iliketohaveoneformyhairandoneformybody.
Hishandpushesthroughthecurtainholdingtwotowels.Ithankhim,andhe
mutterssomethingthatIdon’tunderstand.
He pulls his jeans down as I dry off and turns the water back on. His long
armspullbackthecurtainandIcan’thelpbutstareathisnakedbody.Themore
Igettoseehimthisway,themorebeautifulthedesignsprintedonhisskinareto
me. I continue to stare as he steps into the shower. The water sprays onto his
dark hair and he closes the curtain. I should have taken one with him, not
becauseheispouting,butbecausenowIreallywantto.
“I’m going to go back to your room,” I tell him, figuring he’s ignoring me
anyway.
He jerks the curtain back, causing the rings to scrape against the rod. “No,
you’renot.”
“Okay,whatisyourproblem?”Isnap.
“Nothing,you’rejustnotgoingbackbyyourself.Therearethirtyguysliving
here,soyoudon’tneedtobewanderingthehalls.”
“No,there’ssomethingelse;youhavebeenpoutingsinceIsaidyoucouldn’t
takeashowerwithme.”
“No...Ihaven’t.”
“TellmewhyorIwillgooutthereinthistowel,”Ithreaten,knowingIwould
neveractuallydoit.Hiseyesnarrowandhereachesoutformyarmtostopme,
splashingwateronthefloor.
“Ijustdon’tlikebeingtoldno.”Hisvoiceislowbutmuchsofterthanitwas
momentsago.
IimaginethatwhenitcomestogirlsHardinhardly,ifever,hearsthewordno.
Mymindtellsmetotellhimtogetusedtoit,butIhaven’ttoldhimnountilthis
point,either.Assoonashetouchesme,Idowhateverhewants.
“Well, I am not like the other girls, Hardin,” I snap, my jealousy coming
forward.
Asmallsmileplaysonhislipsasthewaterrunsoverhisface.“Iknow,Tess.I
know.”HeclosesthecurtainandIpullmyclothesonandheturnsthewateroff.
“You can wear some of my clothes to bed,” he tells me and I nod. I barely
hearhimbecauseIamtoofocusedonhisglisteningbodyinfrontofme.Herubs
the white towel against his hair, leaving it sticking up all over his head, then
wrapsthetowelaroundhiswaist.Thetowelhangssolowonhishipshelooks
like pure sex. It feels like the temperature in the bathroom has risen twenty
degrees.Bendingdowntoopenacabinet,hepullsoutahairbrushandplacesit
intomyhand.
“Come,”hesaysandIshakemyhead,tryingtoclearthedirtythoughtsfrom
mymind.Wewalkdownthehallandturnthecornerasatallblondguyalmost
runsintome...Ilookupathisfaceandmyboneschill.
“Haven’tseenyouinawhile,”hepurrsandIfeelnauseous.
“Hardin,” I squeak and he turns around; it takes him only a moment to
rememberthisisthesameguywhotriedtomakeamoveonmebefore.
“Getawayfromher,Neil,”hebarksandNeil pales. Hemustnothave seen
Hardinbeforeheturnedthecorner.Hismistake.
“Mybad,Scott,”hesaysandwalksaway.
“Thanks,”IwhispertoHardin.Hewrapshishandovermineandunlockshis
door.
“Ishouldjustbeattheshitoutofhim,yeah?”HardinsaysasItakeaseaton
thebed.
“No!Youshouldn’t!”Ibeg.Ican’ttellifheisserious,butIdon’twanttofind
out. He grabs the remote off his dresser and switches the television on before
openingthedrawerandtossingmeaT-shirtandapairofboxers.
Iremovemyjeansandpulltheboxerson,rollingthemafewtimesatthetop.
“CouldImaybeweartheshirtyouworetoday?”Idon’trealizehowweirdit
soundsuntilthewordsareout.
“What?”Hegrins.
“I...well...nevermind.Idon’tknowwhatIwassaying,”Ilie.Iwantto
wearyourdirtyshirtbecauseitsmellsgood?Thatsoundsstrangeandcrazy.He
chucklesandpickstheshirtoffthefloorandwalksovertome.
“Here,babe,”hesaysandhandsittome.Iamgladhedidn’tembarrassme
further,butIstillfeelalittlesilly.
“Thanks,”Ichirpandpullmyownshirtoffandremovemybra,thensliphis
shirton.IinhaleandfinditsmellsjustasamazingasIknewitwould.
Catchingthis,hiseyessoftenashelooksatme.“Youarebeautiful,”hesays
andlooksaway.Igetthefeelinghedidn’tmeantosaythewordsoutloud,which
makesmyheartswellevenmore.Ismileathimandtakeasteptowardhim.
“Soareyou.”
“Enoughofthat,”hesayswithalaughashischeeksflush.“Whattimedoyou
needtobeupinthemorning?”heasksandsitsonthebed,browsingthroughthe
channels.
“Five,butIwillsetmyownalarm.”
“Five?Fiveinthemorning?Yourfirstclassisatwhat,nine?Whydoyouget
upsoearly?”
“Idon’tknow,justtobeprepared,Iguess?”Irakethehairbrushthroughmy
hair.
“Well,let’sgetupatseven;mybodydoesn’tfunctionbeforeseven,”hetells
meandIgroan.HardinandIaresodifferent.
“Sixthirty?”Itrytocompromise.
“Fine,sixthirty,”heagrees.
We spend the rest of the evening watching random television shows before
Hardinfallsasleepwithhisheadonmylap,myfingersrunningthroughhishair.
Islidedownandlienexttohim,tryingnottowakehim.
“Tess?”Hegroansandhishandsmoveinfrontofhimasifheisreachingfor
me.
“Here,”Iwhisperfrombehindhim.Heturnstohisothersideandwrapshis
armaroundmebeforefallingbacktosleep.HesaysthathesleepsbetterwhenI
amaround,andIthinkthat’strueformeaswell.
THENEXTMORNING,myalarmgoesoffatsixthirtyandIrusharoundtotry
to put yesterday’s clothes on and get Hardin up and dressed. He’s so hard to
wakeup.Ifeelflusteredandunprepared,butwemakeittomyroombyseven
fifteen,givingmeplentyoftimetochangeandbrushmyhairandteethagain.
Stephsleepsthroughitall,andIpreventHardinfrompouringaglassofwateron
herheadtowakeher.I’malsoreallyhappythatHardindoesn’tmakeanyrude
commentsasIpullononeofmylongskirtsandaplainblueshirt.
“See,it’sonlyeight;wehavetwentyminutesbeforewehavetoleavetowalk
tothecoffeehouse,”Hardinbrags.
“We?”
“Yeah,IthoughtIwouldwalkwithyou?Ifnot,that’scool,too,”hesaysand
looksaway.
“Yeah, of course it’s fine.” I am just not used to whatever this is that has
changed between Hardin and me. It will be nice not to have to avoid him, or
worry about running into him. What will Landon think? Will we even tell
Landon?
“Whatshouldwedowithourtwentyminutes?”Ismile.
“Ihaveafewideas.”Hislipsturntoasmirkandhepullsmeontohim.
“Stephishere,”Iremindhimashesuckstheskinundermyear.
“I know, we are only kissing,” he says, laughing, and he presses his lips to
mine.
WeleavebeforeStephwakes,andHardinofferstocarrymybag,whichisa
nicebutunexpectedgesture.
“Whereareyourbooks?”Iaskhim.
“I don’t bring them. I just borrow one every day, in every class. Keeps me
from having to carry one of these,” he says and gestures to my bag on his
shoulder.Irollmyeyesandlaughathim.
WhenwereachthecoffeehouseLandonisleaningagainstthebrickandseems
surprisedtoseeHardinandmetogether.Igivehiman“Iwillexplaineverything
later”lookandhesmiles.
“Well,Ibettergetgoing,Ihaveclassestosleepthrough,”HardinsaysandI
nod.WhatshouldIdo,hughim?
ButbeforeIcandecide,hedropsmybagandhookshisarmaroundmywaist,
pullingme tohis chestbefore kissingme. Ididn’tseethis coming.I kisshim
backandhereleasesme.
“See you later,” he says with a grin and looks at Landon. This couldn’t be
more awkward. Landon’s jaw is practically on the floor and I find myself
embarrassedbyHardin’sboldmove.
“Um...sorryaboutthat.”Idon’treallycareforpublicdisplaysofaffection.
NoahandIhaveneverdoneanythinglikethat,exceptwhenItriedtokisshimat
themalltogetHardinoffmymind.
“Ihavealottotellyou,”ItellLandon,whopicksupmybag.
chapterfifty-five
Landon stays quiet during most of my explanation of my breakup with Noah
andmy question about what to call my relationship with Hardin, since I think
we’redatingbutwehaven’texactlydiscusseditwithtechnicalterms.
“IknowIhavealreadywarnedyou,soIwon’tdoitagain.Butpleasejustbe
careful with him. Though I will admit he seems as infatuated with you as
someonelikehimcanbe,”Landonsaysaswetakeourseats.
ItmeansalottomethatdespitehisdislikeofHardinheisdoinghisbesttobe
understandingandsupportive.
AsIwalkintomythirdclass,mySociologyprofessorwavesmeovertohis
podium.
“Ijustgotacallthatyoushouldreporttothechancellor’soffice,”hetellsme.
What?Why?Amillionfearsseizeholdofmymind,andthenIrememberthat
Hardin’sfatheristhechancellor.Irelaxalittle,onlytohavemynervestakeover
fordifferentreasons.Whatcouldhepossiblyneed?Iknowcollegedoesn’twork
the same way as high school, but I feel as if I am getting called down to the
principal’soffice,onlytheprincipalhappenstobemy...boyfriend’s?...dad.
I pull my bag onto my shoulder and make my way across campus to the
administrationbuilding.It’salongwalkandtakesmeoverahalfhour.Igivethe
secretaryatthefrontdeskmynameandshequicklypicksupthephone.Ican’t
hearanythingexcept“Dr.Scott.”
“He is ready for you,” she says with a professional smile and points to the
woodendooracrossthehall.
I go over, but before I can knock, the door creaks open and Ken greets me
with a smile. “Tessa, thank you for coming,” he says, guiding me inside, then
gesturesformetositdown.Hetakesaseatinthelargeswivelchairbehindan
oversize cherrywood desk. I feel much more intimidated by him in this office
thanIeverdidathishome.
“Sorryforcallingyououtofclass.Ididn’tknowhowelsetoreachyouand
youknowreachingHardincanbe...difficult.”
“It’sokay,really.Issomethingwrong?”Iasknervously.
“No,not atall. Ihave a few things to discuss with you. Let’sstartwith the
internship.”Heleansforwardandputshishandsonthedesk.“I’mhappytosay
that I talked to my friend at Vance, and he would love to meet with you, the
soonerthebetter.Ifyou’refreetomorrow,thatwouldbebest,”hesays.
“Really!”Ishriek,myexcitementbringingmetomyfeet.Feelingawkwardto
bestanding,Ihastilysitbackdown.“That’ssogreat,thankyousomuch!You
have no idea how much I appreciate it!” I tellhim. This is such great news, I
can’tbelievehewoulddothisforme.
“It really is my pleasure, Tessa.” He raises his eyebrows with interest. “So,
shallItellhimyouwillcometomorrow?”
I really don’t want to miss any classes, but this is worth it and I am ahead
anyway.“Yes,thatwillbegreat.Thankyouagain.Wow,”Isayandhelaughs.
“Nowforthesecondthing,andifyousayno,thatisperfectlyfine.Itismore
ofapersonalrequest,orfavor,Isuppose.YourinternshipatVancewillnotbe
affectedinanywayifyoudecline,”hesaysandIgrownervous.Inodandhe
continues. “I am not sure if Hardin has told you that Karen and I are to be
marriednextweekend.”
“Iknewtheweddingwascomingup.Oh,andcongratulations,”Itellhim. I
didn’tknowitwasthatclose.MythoughtstraveltowhenHardincrashedtheir
homeanddrankalmostanentirebottleofscotch.
Hesmileskindly.“Thankyouverymuch.WhatIwaswonderingwasifthere
isanyway...thatyoucouldpossibly...convinceHardintocome.”Hiseyes
leavemineandhestaresatthewall.“Iknowthisisoversteppingmyboundaries
here,butIwouldhateforhimnottobethere.Andhonestly,Ibelieveyouarethe
onlyonewhocouldconvincehimtoshowup.Ihaveaskedhimafewtimesand
hesaidnoimmediately.”Heletsoutafrustratedbreath.
Ihavenoideawhattosaytohim.IwouldlovetogetHardintohisfather’s
wedding,butIdoubthewilllistentome.Whydoeseveryoneseemtothinkhe
will?IrememberwhenKentoldmehebelievesHardinisinlovewithme—a
thoughtthat’sasabsurdasitisuntrue.
“Iwillcertainlytalktohim.Iwouldloveifhewent,”Itellhiminallhonesty.
“Really? Thank you so much, Tessa. I hope you don’tfeel pressured to say
yes,thoughIlookforwardhopefullytoseeingyouboththere.”
AweddingwithHardin?Theideasoundssolovely,butHardinwillbehardto
convince.
“Karen is very fond of you, and she really enjoyed having you over this
weekend.You’rewelcomeanytime.”
“Ireallyenjoyedbeingthere.MaybeIcangetintouchwithheraboutthose
bakinglessonssheoffered.”Ilaughandhechuckles,too.Helookssomuchlike
Hardin when he smiles that it makes my heart warm. Hardin’s father is so
desperate to have a relationship with his angry, broken son that it makes my
heartacheforhim.IfIcandoanythingtohelpKen,Icertainlywill.
“Shewouldlovethat!Comebyanytime,”hebooms,andIstandup.
“Thank you again for helping me with the internship. It means so much to
me.”
“I have looked over your application and transcript, and they are very
impressive.Hardincouldlearnalotfromyou,”hesayswithhopeinhisgreen
eyes.
IfeelmycheeksheatupasIsmileandsaygoodbye.BythetimeIgetback
across campus to the Literature building, I have only five minutes until class
begins.HardinoccupieshisoldseatandIcan’thelpthesmileonmyface.
“Youheldupyourendofthedeal;sodidI,”hesaysandsmilesback.Igreet
Landonandtakemyseatbetweenthem.
“Whywereyousolate?”Hardinwhispersastheprofessorbeginsclass.
“I’lltellyouafterclass.”IknowifIbringthisupnow,hewillcauseascene
inthemiddleofclass.
“Tellme.”
“IsaidI’lltellyouafterclass.It’snobigdeal,”Ipromisehim.Hesighsbut
letsitgo.
Whenclassends,HardinandLandonbothstandupandIamnotsurewhich
onetotalkto.IusuallytalktoLandonafterclassandwewalkouttogether,but
nowthatHardinisback,I’munsure.
“Are you still coming to the bonfire with Dakota and me on Friday? I was
thinkingyoushouldcomeoverfordinnerfirst.Iknowmymomwouldloveit,”
LandonsaysbeforeHardincanspeak.
“Yeah,ofcourseIamstillcoming.Dinnersoundsgreat;justletmeknowthe
detailsandI’llbethere.”Ican’twaittomeetDakota.ShemakesLandonhappy
andforthatIalreadyloveher.
“I’lltextyou,”hesaysandwalksaway.
“I’lltextyou,”HardinmocksandIrollmyeyes.
“Don’tmakefunofhim,”Iwarn.
“Ohyeah,Iforgothowangryyouget.Irecallyoualmostjumpingoverthat
boothatMollywhenshedid.”HelaughsandIgivehisshoulderashove.
“Imeanit,Hardin,leavehimalone,”Isay,thenadd,“Please,”tosoftenthe
mood.
“He’s living with my dad. I have earned the right to make fun of him.” He
smilesatmeandIlaugh.Aswewalkoutofthebuilding,Idecideit’snowor
never.
“Speakingofyourdad...”IlookoverandfindHardinhasalreadytensedup.
HiseyesareleeryastheywaitforwhatI’llsaynext.“That’swhereIwastoday.
Inhisoffice.HesetupaninterviewatVanceformetomorrow.Isn’tthatgreat?”
“Hewhat?”hescoffs.
Herewego.
“Hesetupaninterviewforme.It’sagreatopportunity,Hardin.”Ipleadfor
hisunderstanding.
“Fine,”hesighs.
“There’smore.”
“Ofcoursethereis...”
“Heinvitedmetotheweddingnextweekend...well,us.Heinvitedustothe
wedding.”Ibarelymanagetogetitoutfortheglarehe’sgivingme.
“No,notgoing.Endofdiscussion.”Heturnstowalkawayfromme.
“Wait,justhearmeout.Please?”Ireachforhiswristbuthejerksaway.
“No.Youreallyneedtostayoutofthis,Tessa.Iamnotkidding.Mindyour
owndamnbusinessforonce,”hesnaps.
“Hardin...”Isayoncemore,butheignoresme.
Hewalksoffintotheparkinglot.Myfeethavebecomecement,keepingme
fromfollowingafterhim.Iwatchashiswhitecarpeelsoutoftheparkinglot.
He is overreacting, and I amnot going to feed into it. He needs some time to
cooloffbeforewespeakagain.Iknewhewouldn’twanttogo,butIhadhoped
hewouldatleastdiscussit.
WhoamIkidding?We only startedthis“more”thingtwodaysago.Idon’t
knowwhy I keepexpecting thingsto be somuch different.Theyare, insome
ways:Hardinisnicertomemostly,andhekissedmeinpublic,whichwasreally
surprising. However, Hardin is still essentially Hardin, and he is stubborn and
has an attitude problem. Sighing, I hook my bag over my shoulder and walk
backtomyroom.
Stephis sitting cross-leggedon thefloor staring upat hertelevision when I
enterthe room.“Where were you last night? It’s not like you to stay outon a
schoolnight,younglady,”sheteasesandIrollmyeyesplayfully.
“I...wasout,”Itellher.Idon’tknowifIshouldtellherthatIstayedwith
Hardin.
“WithHardin,”sheaddsforme,andIlookaway.“Iknowyouwere;heasked
meforyournumber,thenheleftthebowlingalleyandnevercameback.”Her
smileismassiveandfullofgleeforme.
“Don’ttellanyone.Idon’texactlyknowwhatisgoingonmyself,”Isay.
Stephpromises to staymute, andwe spendthe rest ofthe afternoontalking
aboutherandTristanbeforehearrivestopickheruptotakehertodinner.He
kissesherassoonassheopensthedoor,holdsherhandwhileshegathersher
things,andsmilesathertheentiretime.Whycan’tHardinbethatwaywithme?
Ihaven’theardanythingfromHardininafewhours,butIdon’twanttobe
theonetotexthimfirst.Petty,Iknow,butIdon’tcare.WhenStephandTristan
leave,Ifinishupmystudyingandhavegatheredmythingstogotakeashower
whenmyphonebuzzes.MyheartleapsassoonasIseeHardin’sname.
Staywithmetonight?thetextreads.Hehasn’tspokentomeinhoursbuthewants
metostaywithhim?Again?
Why?Soyoucanbeajerktome?Irespond.Iwanttoseehim,butI’mstillannoyed.
I’m on my way, be ready. I roll my eyes at his bossy tone but can’t help but feel
excitedtoseehim.
Irushdownand take a showersoIdon’thavetotakeoneathis frat house
again.BythetimeIfinish,Ibarelyhaveenoughtimetogathermyclothesfor
tomorrow.IdreadtakingthebusallthewaytoVance,whenit’sonlyathirty-
minutedrive,soIrenewmyresolvetogocarshoppingagain.Iamfoldingmy
clothesneatlyintomybagwhenHardinopensthedoor—withoutknocking,of
course.
“Ready?”heasksandgrabsmypurseoffthedresser.Inodandputmybag
overmyshoulderandfollowhimout.Wewalktohiscarinsilence,andIfind
myselfrepeatingasmallprayerthattherestofthenightdoesn’tgothisway.
chapterfifty-six
Istareoutthepassengerwindow,notwantingtospeakfirst.Afteracoupleof
blocks,Hardinturnstheradioonandthenturnsituptooloud.Irollmyeyesbut
trytoignoreit—untilIcan’t.Ihatehistasteinmusicanditgivesmeaninstant
headache.Withoutasking,IturntheknobdownandHardinlooksoveratme.
“What?”Isnap.
“Whoa,someoneisinapissymood,”hesays.
“No,Ijustdidn’twanttolistentothat,andifanyoneisinabadmood,itis
you.Youwerebeingrudeearlier,thenyoutextmeandaskmetostay;Idon’t
getit.”
“Iwaspissedbecauseyoubroughtupthewedding.Nowthatit’ssettledthat
wearen’tgoingthereisnoneedformetobepissed.”Histoneiscalmandsure.
“Itisnotsettled—wedidn’teventalkaboutit.”
“Yes,wedid.ItoldyouI’mnotgoing,sodropit,Theresa.”
“Well, you may not be going but I am. And I am going over to your dad’s
housetolearntobakewithKarenthisweek,”Itellhim.
Heclencheshisjawandglaresatme.“You’renotgoingtothewedding,and
what—areyouandKarenlikebestfriendsnow?Youbarelyevenknowher.”
“SowhatifIbarelyknowher?Ibarelyknowyou,”Itellhim.Hisfacefalls,
andIfeelbad,butitistrue.
“Whyareyoubeingsodifficult?”hesaysthroughgrittedteeth.
“Becauseyouaren’tgoingtotellmewhattodo,Hardin.It’snothappening.If
Iwanttogotothewedding,Iwill,andIreallywouldlikeyoutocomewithme.
Itcould be fun—youmay even have a nice time. It would mean a lot to your
fatherandKaren,notthatyoucareaboutthat.”
He doesn’tsay anything. He lets out a largebreath andI stare backout the
window.Therestoftherideisspentinsilence,bothofustooangrytospeak.
When we pull up to the fraternity house, Hardin grabs my bag out of the
backseatandputsitoverhisshoulder.
“Whyareyoupartofafrat,anyway?”Iaskhim.Ihavebeenwantingtoknow
theanswersinceIdiscoveredhisroomthefirsttime.
Hetakesadeepbreathaswewalkupthesteps.“Because,bythetimeIagreed
tocomehere,thedormswerefull—andIsureashellwasn’tgoingtolivewith
myfather—sothiswasoneofthefewoptionsIhad.”
“Butwhystayinit?”
“Because I don’t want to live with my father, Tessa. Besides, look at this
house;it’snice,andIdidgetthebiggestroom.”Hesmirksalittle,andI’mglad
toseehisangerisdyingdown.
“Imean,whydon’tyouliveoffcampus?”Iaskhimandheshrugs.Maybehe
doesn’twanttohavetogetajob.
Ifollowhimquietlyuptohisroomandwaitasheunlocksthedoor.Whatisit
withhimandhisobsessionovernoonegoingintohisroom?
“Why won’t you let anyone in your room?” I ask and he rolls his eyes. He
putsmybagdownonthefloor.
“Whydoyoualwaysasksomanyquestions?”hegroansandsitsonthechair.
“Idon’tknow,whywon’tyouanswerthem?”Iask,butofcourseheignores
me.“CanIhangupmyoutfitfortomorrow?Idon’twantittogettoowrinkled
frombeinginmybag.”
Heseemstothinkaboutitforasecondbeforehenodsandstandstoretrievea
hanger from his closet. I grab the skirt and blouse out and put them on the
hanger,ignoringhissourexpressionatmyclothing.
“IhavetogetupearlierthanusualtomorrowsoIcanbeatthebusstationby
eightforty-five;thestopthreestreetsoverisontheroutethatgetsmetwoblocks
awayfromVance,”Iinformhim.
“What?You’regoingtheretomorrow?Whydidn’tyoutellme?”
“Idid...youweretoobusysulkingtopayattention,”Ifireback.
“Iwilldriveyouthere;youdon’tneedtotake,what’sit,likeanhour-longbus
ride.”
IwanttodeclinehisofferjusttoannoyhimbutIdecideagainstit.Hardin’s
carisamuchbetterwaytogettherethanacrowdedbus.
“Iamgoingtogetacarsoon;Ican’tlastanylongerwithoutone.IfIgetthe
internship,Iwouldhavetotakethebustherethreedaysaweek.”
“Iwoulddriveyou,”hesays,hisvoicealmostawhisper.
“I’lljustgetmyowncar,”Itellhim.“ThelastthingIneedisforyoutobe
madatmeandnotpickmeup.”
“Iwouldneverdothat.”Histoneisserious.
“Yeah, you would. Then I would be stuck trying to find a bus route. No,
thanks,”Ihalf-joke.IhonestlyfeellikeIcoulddependonhim,butIdon’twant
totakeanychances.Heisjusttoomoody.
Hardinturnsonthetelevisionandstandsuptochangehisclothes,soIhome
in on what he’s doing. No matter how annoyed with him I am, I would never
turndownachancetowatchhimundress.Hisshirtispulledoverhisheadfirst,
thenIwatchhismusclescontractunderhisskinasheunbuttonsandpullsdown
histightblackjeans.JustasIthinkheisgoingtowearonlyboxers,hepullsa
pairofthincottonpantsoutofhisdresserandputsthemon.Hestaysshirtless,
luckyforme.
“Here,”hemumblesandhandsmetheshirthejustremoved.Ican’thelpthe
smileonmyfaceasItakeitinmyhands.Thismustbeourthingnow;hemust
likemewearinghisshirttobedasmuchasIlovethesmellofhimonthefabric.
HardinfocusesonthetelevisionasIfollowhisleadandchangeintohisshirtand
a pair of yoga pants. The pants are more like spandex leggings, but they are
comfortable.AfterIfoldupmybraandclothesHardinfinallylooksatmeagain.
Heclearshisthroatandhiseyesrakemybody.
“Those...um...arereallysexy.”
Iflush.“Thanks.”
“Muchbetterthanyourfuzzycloudpants,”heteases,andIlaughwhiletaking
aseatonthefloor.Ifeeloddlycomfortableinhisroom.Maybeit’sthebooks,or
Hardin,Iamnotsure.
“Did you mean it in the car when you said you barely know me?” he asks
quietly.Hisquestionisveryunexpected.
“Sortof.Youaren’ttheeasiestpersontogettoknow.”
“IfeellikeIknowyou,”hesays,hiseyeslockedontomine.
“Yeah,becauseIletyou.Itellyouthingsaboutmyself.”
“Itellyouthings,too.Itmaynotseemthatway,butyouknowmebetterthan
anyoneelsedoes.”Helooksdownatthefloor,thenbackintomyeyes.Helooks
sadandvulnerable,suchadifferencefromhisusualangryintensity,butequally
ascaptivating.
Iamnotsurewhattosaytohisconfession;IfeellikeIdoknowHardinona
verypersonallevel, like somehowwe connect muchdeeperthan justknowing
minuscule bits of information about each other, but it doesn’t feel like nearly
enough.Ineedtoknowmore.
“You know me better than anyone, too,” I tell him. He knows me, the real
Tessa. Not the Tessa that I have to pretend to be around my mother, or even
Noah.IhavetoldHardinthingsaboutmyfatherleaving,mymother’scriticism,
andmyfearsthatInevertoldanyoneelse.Hardinseemsverypleasedwiththis
information;a smile covers his beautiful face as he stands from the chair and
movesovertome.Hetakesmyhandsintohisandpullsmeup.
“Whatdoyouwanttoknow,Tessa?”heasks,andmyheartwarms.Hardinis
finallywillingtotellmemoreabouthimself.Iamthismuchclosertofiguring
outthiscomplicatedandangry,yetsometimeslovely,man.
HardinandIbothliebackonthebed,eyesontheceilingasIaskhimatleast
ahundredquestions.Hetalksabouttheplacehegrewup,Hampstead,andhow
niceitwaslivingthere.Hetalksaboutthescaronhiskneefromthefirsttimehe
learnedtoridea bike withnotrainingwheels, and howhismotherpassed out
fromtheblood.Hisfatherwasatthebarthatday—alldaylong—sohismother
wastheonewhotaughthim.Hetellsmeaboutgradeschoolandhowhespent
mostofhistimereading.Hewasneververysocial,andashegotolder,hisdad
drankmoreandmoreandhisparentsfoughtmoreandmore.Hetellsmeabout
howhegotkickedoutofsecondaryschoolforfightingbuthismotherbegged
them to let him back. He began getting tattoos at sixteen; his friend would do
theminhisbasement.Hisfirsttattoowasastar,andoncehegotonehewanted
more and more. He tells me he doesn’t have a specific reason why he hasn’t
tattooedhisback;hejusthasn’tgottenaroundtoityet.Hehatesbirds,despite
thetwoinkedabovehiscollarbones,andlovesclassiccars.Thebestdayofhis
lifewaswhenhelearnedtodrive,andtheworstwaswhenhisparentsdivorced.
Hisfatherstoppeddrinkingwhenhewasfourteenandhasbeentryingtomake
upforalltheterribleyears,butHardinisn’thavingit.
MyheadisswimmingwithallofthisnewinformationandIfeellikeIfinally
understandhim. There are still manymore things I would loveto know about
him, but he falls asleep while telling me about the playhouse made from
cardboardboxesthatheandhismotherandherfriendmadewhenhewaseight.
AsIwatchhimsleep,heappearssomuchyoungernowthatIknow abouthis
childhood, which seems like it was mostly happy until his father’s alcoholism
poisonedit,creatingtheangryHardinoftoday.Ileanoverandgivetheproud
rebelakissonhischeekbeforecrawlingintobedtosleep,too.
Idon’twanttowakehim,soIpullthecomfortersidewaystocovermyselfup.
That night, my dreams are clouded by a curly-haired little boy falling off a
bicycle.
“STOP!”
IjoltawakeatthepainedsoundofHardin’svoice.Ilookaroundforhim,then
peeroverthebedtoseehisbodyjerkingonthefloor.Ihurryoutofthebedto
getdowntohimandgentlyshakehisshoulderstotrytowakehim.Iremember
howdifficultitwasthelasttime,soIleandownonhimandwrapmysmallarms
aroundhisshouldersashetriestothrashawayfromme.Awhimperescapeshis
perfectlipsandthenhiseyesshootopen.
“Tess,” he gasps and wraps his arms around me. He is panting, sweating. I
shouldhaveaskedhimaboutthenightmares,butIdidn’twanttobegreedy;he
toldmemuch,muchmorethanIhadexpectedhimto.
“I’mhere,I’mhere,”Isaytocomforthim.Ipullhisarm,gesturingforhimto
getupandcometobed.Whenhiseyesmeetmine,theconfusionandfearslowly
fadeoutofthem.
“Ithoughtyouleft,”hewhispers.Weliedownandhepullsmeasclosetohim
as possible. I run my fingers through his damp and unruly hair, and his eyes
flutterclosed.
Idon’tsayanything.Ijustcontinuetorubhisscalptocalmhim.
“Don’teverleaveme,Tess,”hewhispersandfallsbackintosleep.Myheart
nearlyexplodesat hisplea,and Iknowthat as longas hewantsme here, I’m
here.
chapterfifty-seven
ThenextmorningIwakeupbeforeHardinandmanagetorollhimoffmeand
untangleourlegswithoutwakinghim.Thememoryofhimsayingmynamein
reliefandall the secretsabouthimself he disclosedmakesmy stomach flutter.
Hewassounguardedandopenlastnight,itmademecareforhimevenmore.
The depth of my feelings for him scares me and I feel like I can tell they’re
there, but I’m not really ready to face them yet. I get my curling iron and the
small bag of Steph’s makeup I borrowed, with her permission, of course, and
walkdowntothebathroom.
Thehallwayisempty,andnooneknocksonthedoorwhileIgetready.I’m
notasluckyasImakemywaybacktoHardin’sroom.Threeguyscomedown
thehallinmydirection,oneofthemLogan.
“Hey,Tessa!”hechirpsandflashesmehisperfectsmile.
“Hey,howareyou?”Ifeelawkwardwiththethreeofthemstaringatme.
“Good,justonourwayout.Areyoulikemovinginhereorsomething?”he
says,andlaughs.
“No,definitelynot.Just...um...visiting.”Ihavenocluewhattosay.The
tallguybendsdownandwhisperssomethingintoLogan’sear.Ican’tmakeout
whathesays,butIlookaway.“Well,Iwillseeyouguyslater,”Isay.
“Yeah,seeyoutonightattheparty,”Logansaysandwalksaway.
Whatparty?Whywouldn’tHardinmentionapartytome?Maybehedoesn’t
planonbeingthere?Ormaybehedoesn’twantyoutocome, mysubconscious
adds.WhothrowsapartyonaTuesday,anyway?
WhenIreachHardin’sdoor,itopensbeforeIreachthehandle.
“Wherewereyou?”hesaysandopensitwideenoughformetowalkin.
“Doingmyhair.Iwantedtoletyousleep,”Itellhim.
“Itoldyounottobewanderingthehalls,Tessa,”hescolds.
“AndItoldyounottobossmearound,Hardin,”Iaddsarcastically,andhis
featuressoften.
“Touché.”Helaughsandstepsclosertome.Heplacesoneofhishandsonthe
smallofmybackandputstheotherbeneathmyshirtandonmystomach.His
fingersareroughwithcallusesbutglidegentlyonmyskin,movinghigherand
higheronmystomach.
“However,youreallyshouldwearabra whenyou’reroamingthehallsofa
fraternityhouse,Theresa.”Hebringshismouthtomyearattheexactmoment
thathisfingersfindmybreasts.Herubsoverthesensitiveareawithhisthumbs,
makingthemhardenunderhistouch.Hesucksinasharpbreath,andIamfrozen
butmyheartisracing.“Youneverknowwhatkindofpervertsarelurkinginthe
halls,”hesayssoftlyintomyear.
Histhumbsswirlaroundmynipples,beforehepinchesthemlightly.Myhead
fallsto his chestand I amunable to controlmy moans ashis fingers continue
theirgentleassault.
“IbetIcouldmakeyoucomejustbydoingthis,”hesaysand appliesmore
pressure.
Ihadnoideathatthiscouldfeelthis...good.InodandHardinchuckles,his
mouthagainstmyear.“Doyouwantmetodothat?Makeyoucome?”heasks
andInodagain.Doesheevenhavetoask?Myheavybreathingandshakyknees
shouldgiveitaway.
“Good girl, now let’s move to the—” he begins when the alarm on my cell
phonegoesoff.
Isnap to attention. “Oh God! Wehave to leave in ten minutes, Hardin, and
you’renotevendressed.I’mnotevendressed!”
Ipullaway,butheshakeshisheadandpullsmebacktohim,thistimepulling
mypantsandpantiesdownmylegs.Hereachesoverandshutsmyphoneoff.
“Ionlyneedtwominutes;thatleaveseighttogetdressed.”Heliftsmeoffthe
floor,takingmeovertothebed.Hesitsmedownonit,kneelsinfrontofme,
andpullsmebymyanklestotheedge.“Spreadyourlegs,baby,”hecoos,andI
oblige.
I know this wasn’t on my schedule for this morning, but I can’t think of a
betterwaytostartmyday.Hislongfingertracesupmythighsandheholdsme
down with one hand. His head dips down and he licks up and down my core
oncebeforepuckeringhislipsandsucking.It’sthatspotagain,ohLord.Myhips
buckoffthebedandhepushesmebackdownandcontinuestoholdmedown.
Using his other hand, he inserts a finger into me, pumping faster than ever
before.Ican’tdecideifhishandsorhissuckingfeelsbetter,butthecombination
ismind-blowing.WithinsecondsIfeelthatburninthepitofmystomachandhe
pumpshisfingerfaster.
“I’mgoingtotrytwo,okay?”hesaysandImoaninapproval.Thefeelingis
strange and a little uncomfortable, like the first time he slipped his one finger
insideme,butwhenheplaceshislipsbackonmeandsucksagain,Iforgetabout
thesubtlepain.IwhimperasHardinremoveshismouthoncemore.
“Shit,you’resotight,baby.”Hiswordsalonearegoingtosendmeoverthe
edge.“Youokay?”heasks.
Igrabhimbyhiscurlsandpushhisfacedown.Hechucklesandthenattaches
hislips again.I moanhis nameand pullhis hairas Iexperience mystrongest
orgasmever.NotthatIhavehadmany,butthisonewasdefinitelythequickest
and strongest. Hardin places a small kiss on my hipbone before standing and
walkingtothecloset.Iliftmyheadandtrytocatchmybreath.Hewalksback
over and wipes me off with a T-shirt, which might be more embarrassing if I
werefullycoherent.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to brush my teeth.” He smiles and exits the
room. I stand up and get myself dressed and check the time. We have three
minutes until we have to leave. When Hardin returns, he quickly gets dressed
andwe’regone.
“Doyouknowhowtogetthere?”Iaskashepullsoutofthedriveway.
“Yeah,myfather’sbestmatefromuniversityisChristianVance,”hetellsme.
“I’vebeenthereacoupleoftimes.”
“Oh...wow.”IknewKenhadaconnectionthere,butIdidn’tknowtheCEO
washisbestfriend.
“Don’tworry,he’saniceguy.Abitofasquarebutnice;you’llfitrightin.”
Hissmileiscontagious.“Youlooklovely,bytheway.”
“Thankyou.Youseemtobeinagoodmoodthismorning,”Isayteasingly.
“Yeah,havingmyheadbetweenyourthighsthisearlyinthemorningseems
likeanomenforagoodday.”Helaughsandtakesmyhandinhis.
“Hardin!”Iscoldhim,butheonlylaughsoncemore.
The drive goes quickly, and in no time we’re pulling around back of a six-
storybuildingwithmirroredglasssidesandalargeVplacedonthefront.
“I’mnervous,”IadmitasIcheckmymakeupinthemirror.
“Don’t be; you will do fine. You are so smart, and he’ll see that,” Hardin
assuresme.
God,Ilovewhenheisnicelikethis.
“Thankyou,”Isayandleanacrosstokisshim.Itisasweetandsimplekiss.
“I’llbeinthecarwaitingforyou,”hesaysandkissesmeagain.
Theinsideofthebuildingisjustaselegantastheoutside.WhenIreachthe
frontdesk,Iamgivenadaypassandinstructedtogotothesixthfloor.Ireach
thedeskonthesixthfloorandgivetheyoungmanmyname.
Heflasheshisperfectwhitesmileatmebeforewalkingmetoalargeoffice
and saying, “Mr. Vance, Theresa Young is here,” to a middle-aged man with
lightpatchesoffacialhairIcanseethroughthedoorway.
Mr. Vance waves me in and walks toward me to shake my hand. His green
eyescanbeseenfromacrosstheroomandhissmileiscomfortingandrelaxes
meashetellsmetohaveaseat.
“It’sverynicetomeetyou,Theresa.Thankyouforcoming,”hesays.
“Tessa,callmeTessa.Thankyouforhavingme,”Isaywithasmile.
“So,Tessa,youareafreshmanEnglishmajor?”heasks.
“Yes,sir,”Isay,nodding.
“KenScottgaveyouagreatrecommendation,saysIwouldbemissingoutifI
didn’tgiveyouaninternship.”
“Ken is a very kind man,” I say and he nods, rubbing his beard with his
fingers.
HeasksmetotellhimwhatI’vebeenreadingoflateandwhoaremyfavorite
andleastfavoriteauthors,andtoexplainwhyIfeelthatway.Henodsandhmms
throughmyexplanation,andwhenIfinish,hesmiles.
“Well, Tessa, when can you begin? Ken says with your courses it’s easy
enoughtocondenseyourschedulesoyoucanbeheretwodaysaweekandtake
classesoncampustheotherthree,”hesaysandmymouthfallsopen.
“Really?”is all I can say.This is beyond my expectations. I had assumed I
wouldhavetotakenightclassesandcomehereduringtheday,ifIgottheoffer.
“Yes,andyouwillalsoreceivecredithourstowardyourdegreeforyourtime
spenthere.”
“Thankyousomuch.Thisissuchanamazingopportunity,thankyou,thank
youagain.”Ican’tbelievehowluckyIam.
“WewilldiscussyourpayMondaywhenyoustart.”
“Pay?”Ihadassumeditwouldbeanunpaidinternship.
“Yes,ofcourseyouwillbepaidforyourtime.”Hesmiles.
Ijustnod,afraidthatifIopenmymouthIwillthankhimforthethousandth
time.
IPRACTICALLYRUNtothecarandHardinclimbsoutasInearit.
“Well?”heasksandIsqueal.
“Igotit!It’spaidandIwillbeheretwodaysaweekandinschoolthreedays
—andIgetcollegecredit—andhewassonice—andyourdadiswonderfulfor
doingthisfor me—and youare,too, ofcourse.I am justsoexcited and I. . .
well...Iguessthat’sit.”Ilaughandhewrapshisarmsaroundme,squeezing
metightandliftingmeintotheair.
“I’msohappyforyou,”hesaysandIburymyfingersinhishair.
“Thankyou,”Isayandheputsmedown.“Really,thankyoufordrivingme
andwaitinginthecar.”
Heassuresmethatit’snoproblem,andaswebothclimbintothecarheasks,
“Whatdoyouwanttodofortherestoftheafternoon?”
“Gobacktoschool,ofcourse;wecanstillmakeittoLiterature.”
“Really?Ibetwecouldfindsomethingmuchmorefuntodo.”
“No,I’vealreadymissedtoomanyclassesthisweek;Idon’twanttomissany
more.I’mgoingtoLiterature,andsoshouldyou.”Ismile.
Herollshiseyesbutnodsinagreement.
WemakeitjustintimeforclassandIgushtoLandonabouttheinternship.He
congratulatesmeandgivesmeatighthug.Hardinrudelymakesgaggingnoises
behindusandIkickbackathisleg.
AfterclassHardinwalksoutwithLandonandmeaswediscussthedetailsof
thebonfirethisFriday.IagreetomeetLandonathishouseatfivefordinnerand
thenwe’llgotothebonfireatseven.Hardinstaysquietduringourdiscussion,
andIwonderifhe willaccompanyme.Hesaidatonepointhewouldgo,but
I’mprettysurethatwasonlytocompetewithZed.Landonsayshisgoodbyesas
wereachtheparkinglotandwalksoff,whistling.
“Scott!”someonecalls.WebothturnaroundtoseeNateandMollywalking
towardus. Great,Molly. She iswearing atank topand ared leatherskirt. It’s
only Tuesday and she’s already almost used up her skank quota for the week.
Sheshouldsavethatstufffortheweekends.
“Hey,”Hardinsaysandtakesastepawayfromme.
“Hey,Tessa,”Mollysaysinreturn.
I return her greeting and stand awkwardly as Hardin and Nate exchange
hellos.
“You’re ready, right?” Nate asks him, and it becomes clear that Hardin told
them to meet him here. I don’t know why I had assumed we would hang out
again; it’s not like we can spend every day together, but he could have said
something.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” Hardin tells them and looks at me. “See you around,
Tessa,”hecasuallysaysandwalksoffwiththem.Mollylooksbackatmewitha
smirk on her makeup-covered face as she climbs into the passenger seat of
Hardin’scarandNategetsinback.
AndIstandonthepavementandwonderwhatthehelljusthappened.
chapterfifty-eight
DuringmywalkbacktomyroomIrealizehowfoolishIhavebeen,expecting
Hardin to be different than before. I should have known better. I should have
knownthatthiswastoogoodtobetrue.HardinkissingmeinfrontofLandon,
Hardinbeingniceandwanting“more.”Hardintellingmeabouthischildhood.I
should have known that as soon as his friends came along he would go right
backtotheHardinthatupuntiltwoweeksagoIdespised.
“Hey,girl!Youcomingtonight?”StephasksasIwalkintoourroom.Tristan
issittingonherbedstaringatherintheadoringwayIwishHardinwouldstare
atme.
“No,I’mgoingtostudy,”Isay.It’snicetoknowthateveryonewasinvited,
yetHardindidn’tseefittoevenmentionthepartytome.Probablysohecould
hangoutwithMollywithoutanydistractions.
“Ohcomeon!Itwillbefun.Hardinwillbethere.”ShesmilesandIforceone
backtoher.
“Really,it’sokay.Ineedtocallmymotherandcatchupwithherandplanmy
assignmentsfornextweek.”
“Laaaame!” Steph teases and grabs her purse. “Suit yourself. I’ll be out all
night,soifyouneedanythingletmeknow,”shesaysandhugsmegoodbye.
Icallmymotherandtellheraboutmyinternship,andofcoursesheisbeyond
pleasedbymyamazingopportunity.IleaveHardinoutoftheexplanation,butI
do mention Ken, though I say he is Landon’s soon-to-be stepfather, which is
true.SheasksaboutNoahandme,butIdodgeherquestions.I’msurprisedand
gratefultofindthatNoahhasn’ttoldmymothereverything.Hedoesn’toweme
anything,butI’mthankfulforhisomission.Afterlisteningtohertalkforfartoo
longabouthernewcoworker,whoshebelievesishavinganaffairwithherboss,
IfinallytellherIreallyneedtostudyandIgetoffthephone.Immediately,my
mindgoesbacktoHardin,asalways.MylifewasmuchmoresimplebeforeI
metHardin, andnow after. . . it is complicated andstressful, andI ameither
extremelyhappyorthereisthisburninginmychestwhenIthinkofhimwith
Molly.
IwillgoinsaneifIjustsithere,andit’sonlysixo’clockbythetimeIgiveup
tryingtostudy.MaybeIshouldgoforawalk?Ireallyneedsomemorefriends.I
grabmyphoneandcallLandon.
“Hey,Tessa!”Hisvoiceisfriendlyandsoothessomeofmyanxiety.
“Hey,Landon,areyoubusy?”Iaskhim.
“No,justwatchingthegame.Why,issomethingwrong?”
“No,IwasjustwonderingifmaybeIcouldcomeoverandhangout ...or
maybeifyourmomdoesn’tmindIcouldtakeheruponthosebakinglessons.”I
letoutaweaklaugh.
“Yeah,ofcourse.Shewouldlovethat—I’llletherknowyou’recoming.”
“Okay, thenext bus isn’tfor thirty minutes, but Iwill be there as soonas I
can,”Itellhim.
“Bus?Ohyeah,Iforgotyouhaven’tfoundacar.Iwillcomegetyou.”
“No,really,it’sokay.Idon’tmind,Idon’twantyoutogooutofyourway.”
“Tessa,it’slessthantenmiles.I’llleavenow,”hesaysandIfinallyagree.
Igrabmypurseandcheckmyphoneonelasttime.OfcourseHardinhasn’t
textedorcalledme.IhatethewayIfeeldependentonhim,especiallywhenI
obviouslycan’tdependonhim.
Determinedtobeindependent,Iturnmyphoneoff.IfIleaveiton,Iwillgo
crazychecking it everyfew minutes.Figuring that Ireally shouldjust leave it
here,IputitinthetopdrawerofmydresserbeforeIgoouttowaitforLandon
topickmeup.
Minuteslaterhepullsupandhonkslightly.Ijumpoffthecurbinsurpriseand
webothlaughasIclimbintothecar.
“Mymotherisgoinginsaneinthekitchenrightnow,sobepreparedforavery
detailedbakinglesson,”hesays.
“Really?Ilovethedetails!”
“Iknowyoudo—we’realikethatway,”hesaysandturnsontheradio.
Ihearthefamiliarsoundofoneofmyfavoritesongs.“CanIturnthisup?”I
askandhenods.
“YouliketheFray?”heasksinasurprisedtone.
“Yes!They’remyfavoriteband—Ilovethem.Doyoulikethem?”
“Yes! Who doesn’t?” He laughs. I almost tell him Hardin doesn’t, but then
decideagainstit.
Whenwearriveatthehouse,Kengreetsusatthedoorwithafriendlysmile.I
hopehewasn’texpectingHardintobewithme,butseeingnodisappointmenton
hisface,Ismileback.
“Karenisinthekitchen;enteratyourownrisk,”hesaysmischievously.
Hewasn’tjoking.Karen hasthe entirelargeislandcovered in pans, mixing
bowls,andalotofotherthingsIdon’trecognize.
“Tessa! I’m just getting everything ready!” She’s beaming as she makes a
handgesturetohighlightallthestrangeequipment.
“IsthereanythingIcanhelpyouwith?”
“No,notatthemoment.Iamalmostfinished....There,I’mdone.”
“Ihopeitwasn’ttoolatenoticeformetocomeby,”Isay.
“Ohno,dear,youarealwayswelcomehere,”sheassuresmeandIcantellshe
meansit.
ShehandsmeanaprontowearandItiemyhairupintoabun.Landonsitson
the bench and talks to us for a few minutes while Karen shows me all the
ingredientsusedtomakecupcakesfromscratch.Ipourthemintothemixerand
turnitonlowspeed.
“I already feel like a professional baker.” I laugh and Landon leans across,
wipinghishandacrossmycheek.
“Sorry,youhavesomeflouronyourface.”HischeeksflushandIsmile.
Istartpouringmycupcakebatterintothebakingpan.Whenweputthemin
theovenandstarttalkingaboutschoolandhome,Landonleavesthe“girltalk”
andgoestotheotherroomtofinishwatchingafootballgamehe’srecorded.
Wegetlostinconversationwhileourcreationsbakeandcool,andwhenshe
saysit’stimetoicethecupcakes,Ilookatthemandamreallypleasedwiththe
waymineturnedout.KarenshowsmehowtousethepipingbagtomakeanL
on the top ofone of them, and I set it asidefor Landon. Karen expertly pipes
flowers and green blades of grass onto her cupcakes while I do the best I can
withmine.
“I think it’s cookies next time.” She smiles and places the cupcakes in a
servingcase.
“Soundsgoodtome,”Itellherandtakeabiteofoneofmycupcakes.
AsKarenadjuststhecaseofsweets,sheasks,“Andwhere’sHardintonight?”
Ichewmycakeslowly,tryingtodiscernamotivebehindherasking.“He’sat
hishouse,”Ianswersimply.Shefrownsslightlybutdoesn’tpushit.
Landon wanders back into the kitchen and Karen leaves the room to take a
fewcupcakestoKen.
“Is this cupcake for me?” Landon asks and holds up the cupcake with the
squigglyLwritteninicing.
“Yeah,Ihavetoworkonmypipingskills.”
Hetakesabigbite.“Theimportantpartisittastesgood,”hesayswithafull
mouth.Igiggleandhewipeshismouth.
IeatanothercupcakeandLandontalksaboutthegame,whichIdon’treally
careabout,buthe’snice,soIpretendtolisten.MymindtravelstoHardinagain
andIstareoutthewindow.
“Areyouokay?”Landonpullsmeoutofmythoughts.
“Yeah,I’msorry.Iwaspayingattention...atfirst.”Ismileapologetically.
“It’sallright.IsitHardin?”
“Yeah...how’dyouknow?”Iask.
“Whereishe?”
“Thefrat house.There’ssome partytonight .. .” I start, and then decide to
confideinhim.“Andhedidn’ttellmeaboutit.Hehadhisfriendsmeethimand
hejust said,‘See youaround, Tessa.’I feel like an idiot evenrepeating this,I
knowhowstupidIsound,butit’sdrivingmecrazy.ThatgirlMolly,heusedto
mess around with her all the time and she’s with him now, and he didn’t tell
themweare...whateverweare.”Iletoutaheavysigh.
“Aren’tyoutwosupposedtobedating?”Landonasks.
“Yeah...well,IthoughtsobutIdon’tknownow.”
“Whydon’tyoutrytotalktohim?Orgototheparty?”
Ijustlookathim.“Ican’tjustgototheparty.”
“Whynot?You’vebeentotheirpartiesbefore,andyouandHardinaresortof
dating,orwhateverthisis,andyourroommatewillbethere.IwouldgoifIwas
you.”
“Really?Stephdidinviteme...Idon’tknow.”
IwanttogojusttoseeifHardiniswithMollybutIfeelstupidjustshowing
upthere.
“Ithinkyoushould.”
“Willyoucomewithme?”Iask.
“Ohno,no.Sorry,Tessa.Wearefriendsbutno-ho-ho.”
Iknewhewouldn’tbutitwasworthasking.“IthinkIwillgo.Atleasttotalk
tohim.”
“Good.Justwipetheflouroffyourfacefirst.”
HelaughsandIgentlypushhisarm.Istayalittlewhilelongertohangout
withLandon;I don’twant him tothink I wasjust using himfor a roundabout
ridetotheparty,eventhoughIknowhedoesn’tthinkthat.
“GOODLUCK;CALLMEifyouneedme,”hesaysasIgetoutofthecarin
frontofthefrathouse.AfterhedrivesawayIthinkoftheironyofmyleaving
my phone in my room to avoid worrying about Hardin, and yet here I am
showingupathishouse.
A group of scantily clad girls are standing in the yard, causing me to look
downatmyoutfit:jeansandacardigan.Ibarelyhaveanymakeuponandmy
hairisinabunontopofmyhead.WhatthehellwasIthinkingcominghere?
Iswallowmyanxietyandwalkinside.Idon’tsee any familiarfacesexcept
Logan,who’sdoingabodyshotoffagirlwearingonlyabraandpanties.Iwalk
throughthekitchenandsomeonehandsmearedcupfullofalcohol,whichIput
to my lips. If I am going to confront Hardin, I need alcohol. I push my way
throughthecrowdedlivingroomtothecouchthattheirgroupusuallyhangsout
on.Betweenbodiesandovershoulders,Molly’spinkhaircomesintoview...
AndIfeelsickasInoticesheisn’tsittingonthecouch,butonHardin’slap.
His hand is on her thigh and she leans back against him, laughing among her
friendslikethisisthemostnormalthingintheworld.
HowdidIgetmyselfinthissituationwithHardin?Ishouldhavestayedaway
fromhim.IknewitthenandIamslappedinthefacewithitnow.Ishouldjust
leave.Idon’tbelonghere,andIdon’twanttocryinfrontofthesepeopleagain.
IamsickofcryingoverHardin,andIamdonetryingtomakehimsomethinghe
isn’t.EverytimeIthinkIfeelaslowasIcan,hedoessomethingelsethatmakes
merealizeIpreviouslyhadnoideaoftherealpainthatunrequitedfeelingscan
cause.IwatchasMollyputsherhandoverHardin’s;hemoveshisaway,onlyto
put it on her hip, giving her a playful squeeze and she giggles. I try to force
myself to move, to back up, to run, to crawl, to do anything to get me out of
here, but my eyes are locked on the boy I was falling for while his eyes are
lockedonher.
“Tessa!”someonecalls.Hardin’sheadsnapsupandhisgreeneyesmeetmine.
They are wide with shock, and Molly looks my way, then leans farther onto
Hardin.Hislipspartasifheisgoingtosaysomething,buthedoesn’t.
Zed appears at my side and I finally force my eyes from Hardin’s. I try to
muster a smile for him, but all of my energy is being used to prevent myself
fromburstingintotears.
“Do you want a drink?” Zed asks and I look down. I was holding a cup of
beer,wasn’tI?
At my feet is my cup, the beer spilled across the carpet. I take a step away
fromit;Inormallywouldcleanitupandapologize,butrightnowIwouldrather
justpretenditwasn’tmine.It’ssocrowdedinhere,nobodywillknow.
Ihavetwooptions:IcanrunoutofhereintearsandletHardinknowhegot
thebestofme,orIcanputonabravefaceandactlikeIdon’tcareabouthim
andthewayheisstillholdingMollyonhislap.
Idecidetogowithoptiontwo.
“Yes,please.I’dloveadrink,”Isay,myvoicestrained.
chapterfifty-nine
IfollowZedto thekitchen,mentallypsychingmyselfupsoI cangetthrough
thisparty.IwantedtogooverandcurseHardinout,tellhimtoneverspeakto
meagain,slaphimandripMolly’spinkhairoutofherhead.However,hewould
probablyjustsmirkthewholetime,soinsteadIdecidetogulpdowntheentire
cherryvodkasourthatZedmakesmeandaskforanother.Hardinhasruinedtoo
manyofmynights,andIrefusetobethatgirl.
Zed makes me another sour, but when I hold my cup out again a couple of
minuteslater,helaughsandholdsuphishands.“Whoa,slowdown,killer.You
alreadydranktwo!”
“Itjusttastesreallygood.”Ilaughandlicktheremainingcherryflavoroffmy
lips.
“Well,let’sjusttakeitslowonthisone,yeah?”
When I agree, he mixes me up another one and then says, “I think we are
abouttoplayanotherroundofTruthorDare.”
WhatiswiththeseguysandtheirannoyinggamesofTruthorDare?Ithought
peoplestoppedplayingthoseridiculousgameswhentheywereinhighschool.
The pain in my chest returns as my mind goes over all the things Hardin and
Mollymayhavealreadybeendaredtodotonight.
“WhatdidImissduringthelastround?”IaskhimwiththebestflirtysmileI
canmanage.Iprobablylookinsane,buthesmilesback,soitseemstowork.
“Justsomedrunkpeoplesuckingface,theusual.”Heshrugs.Thelumpinmy
throatrisesbutIswallowitbackdownwithmydrink.Igiveafakelaughand
continue to drink out of my cup as we make our way back to the others. Zed
takesaseatonthefloordiagonallyfromHardinandMolly’sspotonthecouch,
andIsitdownnexttohim,closerthanIusuallywould,butthat’sthepoint.Part
ofmehadassumedHardinwouldhavegottenMollyoffhislapbynow,buthe
hasn’t.SoIleaninalittlecloseryettoZed.
Hardin’seyesdrawtoslits,butIignorehim.Mollyisstillperchedonhislap
like the whore she is, and Steph gives me a sympathetic smile and glances
toward Hardin. The vodka is beginning to take its effect as Nate’s turn comes
around.
“Truthordare?”Stephasks.
“Truth,”heanswers,andsherollshereyes.
“Pussy.”Her colorful languageneverceasesto surprise me.“Okay.. . Isit
truethatyoupissedinTristan’sclosetlastweekend?”sheasksandtheyallstart
laughingexceptme.Ihavenocluewhattheyaretalkingabout.
“No! I already told you guys that wasn’t me!” he groans, making everyone
laughharder.Zedlooksoverandwinksatmeinthemiddleoftheuproar.
Ihadn’treallynoticedbefore,but,Geez,heishot.Reallyhot.
“Tessa, you playing?” Steph asks and I nod. I look up at Hardin, who is
staringatme.Ismileathim,thenlookbackatZed.ThefrownonHardin’sface
takesalittlepressureoffmychest.HeshouldfeelasterribleasIdo.
“Okay,truthordare?”Mollyasks.
Ofcourseshewouldbetheonetoaskme.
“Dare,”Ibravelysay.Godknowswhatshewillhavemedo.
“IdareyoutokissZed.”Afewgaspsandchucklesareheard.
“Wealreadyknowhowshefeelsaboutkissingpeople;picksomethingelse,”
Hardinsaysthroughhisteeth.
“Actually,it’sfine.”Hewantstoplay,wecanplay.
“Idon’tthink—”Hardinstartstosay.
“Shutup,Hardin,”Stephsaysandgivesmeanencouragingsmile.
I can’t believe I agreed to kiss Zed, even if he’s one of the most attractive
people I have ever seen. I have only really kissed Noah and Hardin; I figure
Johnny from elementary school doesn’t count, especially since he tasted like
glue.
“You sure?” Zed asks. He’s trying to act concerned but I can see the
excitementinhisperfectfeatures.
“Yeah, I am sure.” I take another drink, forcing myself not to look up at
Hardin,lestIchangemymind.Everyone’seyesareonusasZedlickshislips
and leans in to kiss me. His lips are cold from his drink and I can taste the
sweetness of the cherry juiceon his tongue. His lips are soft, yet hard against
mine, and his tongue moves expertly with mine. I feel the heat rising in my
stomach,notnearlyashotaswithHardin,butitfeelssogoodthatwhenZed’s
handsmovetomywaist,webothmoveuptoourknees—
“Okay...damn. Shesaidkiss,notfuckinfrontofeveryone,”Hardinsays
andMollytellshimtoshutup.
I let my eyes go over to Hardin, and he looks mad, beyond mad. But he
broughtthisuponhimself.
IpullawayfromZedandfeelmycheeksflushaseveryonestaresatus.Steph
givesmeathumbs-up,butIlookattheground.ZedlooksverypleasedandIfeel
embarrassedbutthrilledwithHardin’sreaction.
“Tessa,yourturntoaskTristan,”Zedsays.Tristanchoosesdare,soIgivehim
theleastcreativedareandhavehimtakeashot.
“Zed,truthordare?”Tristanasksashechaseshisshot.
I down the rest of my drink, and the more I drink, the more numb my
emotionsbecome.
“Dare,” Zed answers, and Steph whispers something in Tristan’s ear that
makeshimgrin.
“IdareyoutotakeTessaupstairsfortenminutes,”Tristansays,andIchoke
onmybreath.Thisistoomuch.
“That’sagoodone!”Mollysaysandlaughsatmyexpense.
ZedlooksatmeasifaskingmeifI’mokaywithit.Withoutthinking,Istand
upandgrabZed’shand.Helooksassurprisedaseveryoneelse,buthestandsup,
too.
“Thisisn’tpartofTruthorDare,thisis...um...well,it’sfuckingdumb,”
Hardinsays.
“Whydoesitmatter?Theyarebothsingleandit’sallingoodfun,sowhydo
youcare?”Mollyaskshim.
“I...Idon’tcare.Ijustthinkit’sstupid,”Hardinanswersandmychesthurts
again. He obviously had no plan to tell any of his friends that we are . . .
were . . . whateverwe were. He has been using me this entire time, I am just
anothergirltohimandIwasfoolish,beyondfoolish,tothinkotherwise.
“Well,goodthingit’snoneofyourbusiness,Hardin,”IsnapandpullZedby
thehand.
“Burn!”“Damn!”Ihearafewvoicessay,andHardinswearsatthemasZed
and I walk away. We find a random bedroom at the top of the stairs and Zed
pullsthedooropenandturnsthelighton.
NowthatIamawayfromHardin,Ibegintofeelmuchmorenervousbeing
alonewith Zed.No matterhow angryI am,I don’twant tomess aroundwith
Zed.Well,Iwouldn’tsayIdon’twantto,butIknowIshouldn’t.I’mnotthat
typeofgirl.
“Sowhatdoyouwanttodo?”Isqueak.
Hechucklesalittleandleadsmetothebed.OhLord.
“Let’sjusttalk,yeah?”hesaysandInodandlookdownatthefloor.“Notthat
Iwouldn’tlovetodomanyotherthingswithyou,butyou’reintoxicatedandI
don’twanttotakeadvantageofyou.”
Igasp.
“Surprised?”HebeamsandIlaugh.
“Alittle,”Iadmit.
“Why? I’m not a jerk, like Hardin,” he says and I look away again. “You
know,IthoughtyouandHardinhadsomethinggoingonforalittlebit.”
“No...wearejust...well,wewerefriends,butnotanymore.”Idon’twant
toadmithowstupidIwasforbelievingHardin’slies.
“Soareyoustillseeingyourboyfriendfromhighschool?”heasks.
RelievednottobetalkingaboutHardin,Irelaxandsay,“No,webrokeup.”
“Oh,that’stoobad.Hewasaluckyguy,”hesayswithasweetsmile.
Zedissocharming.Ifindmyselfstaringintohiscarameleyes;hiseyelashes
arefullerthanmine.“Thanks.”
“Maybe I could take you out sometime? On a proper date? Like, not into a
bedroomatafratparty,”hesays,thenchucklesnervously.
“Um...”Idon’tknowwhattosay.
“HowaboutIaskagaintomorrowwhenyou’resober?”Heismuchnicerthan
I thought he would be. Usually guys as attractive as him are jerks . . . like
Hardin.
“Deal.”
Hetakesmyhandagain.“Allrightthen!Let’sgobackdown.”
Whenwewalkbackdownstairs,HardinandMollyarestillonthecouch,but
HardinnowhasadrinkandMollyhasmovedsoherlegsaredrapedoverhim
fromtheside.WhenHardin’seyesdartdowntowheremyhandisintertwined
withZed’s,Ijerkawaywithoutthinking,butthengrabitagainquickly.Hardin
clencheshisjawandIlookawayintothecrowdofpartiers.
“Howwasit?”Mollysmirks.
“Fun,”IanswerandZedstaysquiet.Iwillthankhimlaterfornotcorrecting
me.
“It’sMolly’sturn,”Nateannouncesaswesitbackonthefloor.
“Truthordare?”Hardinasksher.
“Dare,ofcourse.”
AndHardinlooksrightintomyeyesandsays,“Idareyoutokissme.”
My heart stops, literally. It stops beating; he is a bigger asshole than I ever
imagined.Myears are swimmingandmyheart is poundingasMolly shoots a
boastfulglancemywaybeforeshelatchesherselftoHardin.AlltheangerIfeel
towardHardiniswashedawayandreplacedbyhurt,all-consuminghurtandthe
feelofhottearsonmyface.Ican’twatchanymore,Ijustcan’t.
Withinseconds,I’monmyfeetandpushingthroughthedrunkcrowd.Ihear
ZedandStephbothcallafterme,buttheroomfeelslikeit’sspinningandwhenI
closemyeyesallIcanseeisMollyandHardin.Knockingintopeopleandnot
lookingback,Ifinallyreachthedoorandthefreshairoutsidefillsmylungsand
bringsmebacktoreality.
Howcouldhebesocruel?Irundownthestairsonthesidewalk.Ihavetoget
away from here. I wish I had never met him, I wish I had had a different
roommate.IevenwishIhadnevercometoWCU.
“Tessa!” I hear and I turn around, convinced I am imagining it until I see
Hardinrunningafterme.
chaptersixty
Ihaveneverbeenveryathletic,butmyadrenalineisinfulleffectandIpushmy
legstogofaster.Ireachtheendofthestreet,butbegintotire.Wherethehellam
I going to go? I don’t remember the path that I walked back to my dorm last
time, and I stupidly left my phone in my room. To prove a point. About my
independencefromHardin.Hardin,who’schasingmeandyelling,“Tessa,stop!”
AndIdostop.Istopdeadinmytracks.WhyamIevenrunningfromhim?He
needstoexplainwhyhekeepsplayinggameswithme.
“WhatdidZedsaytoyou?”
What?WhenIturnaroundtofacehim,heisonlyafewfeetawayandhasa
shockedexpression;hedidn’tactuallyexpectIwouldstop.
“What,Hardin!Whatcouldyoupossiblywantfromme?”Iscream.Myheart
ispoundingfromrunning,andfromhisbreakingit.
“I...”Heseemstobeatalossforwordsforonce.“DidZedsaysomethingto
you?”
“No...whywouldhe?”ItakeanotherstepforwardsoIamface-to-facewith
him,myangerrollingoffmeinwaves.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he says quietly. He looks into my eyes and reaches his
handouttotakemine,butIswatitaway.HeignoresmyquestionaboutZedbut
Iamtoomadtocare.
“You’resorry?You’resorry?”Irepeat,myvoicecomingoutinalaugh.
“Yeah,Iam.”
“Gotohell,Hardin.”Ibegintowalkaway,buthegrabsmyarmagain.My
angerboilsoverandmyhandfliesupandsmackshim,hard.Iamassurprised
bymyownviolenceasheis,andIalmostwanttoapologizeforhittinghim,but
thepainhehascausedmeissomuchmorethanacuffonthecheek.
Hishandmovestohisface,slowlyrubbingovertheredskinofhischeek.He
looksatme,angerandconfusionstirringbehindhiseyes.
“Whatthehellisyourproblem?YouweretheonekissingZed!”heyells.A
car passes and the driver stares but I ignore him. I don’t care about causing a
scenerightnow.
“You’renotseriouslytryingtoblameme!Youliedtomeandplayedmelikea
fool, Hardin! Just when I thought I could trust you, you humiliate me! If you
wantedtobewithMolly,whynotjusttellmetoleaveyoualone?No,instead,
youfeedmethatbullshitaboutwantingmoreandbegmetostaythenightwith
youjustsoyoucanuseme!Whatwasthepoint—whatdidyougetoutofit—oh,
besidesablowjob?”Iscream.Thewordtastesoddcomingoutofmymouth.
“What? You think that’s what I am doing? You think I’m using you?” he
shouts.
“No,that’snotwhatIthink,Hardin—that’swhatIknow.Butguesswhat?I’m
done,Iamsobeyonddone.IwillchangedormsifIhavetosoIdon’thaveto
seeyouagain!”Isay,andmeanit.Idon’tneedanyofthesepeoplemakingmy
lifeworse.
“You’reoverreacting,”hesaysflatly,andittakeseverythinginmenottoslap
himagain.
“I’moverreacting?Youdidn’ttellyourfriendsaboutus—youdidn’ttellme
aboutthisparty,andthenyouleftmestandingintheparkinglotlikeadumbass
whileyouleftwithMolly,ofallpeople!ThenIshowupheretofindMollyon
yourlap,andthenyoukissher.Rightinfrontofme,Hardin.I’dsaymyreaction
isquitejustified,”Isay,myvoicedrawingtoawhisperattheend,exhausted.I
wipefreshtearsfrommyfaceandblinkupatthenightsky.
“You kissed Zed right in front of me! And I didn’t tell you about the party
because I don’t have to! You wouldn’t have wanted to come anyway—you
wouldhavebeentoobusystudyingorwatchingthedamnpaintdry,”hebarks.
Ilookathisblurryformthroughmywateryeyesandaskhimsimply,“Sowhy
evenwasteyourtimewithme?Whyevenfollowmeouthere,Hardin?”When
hedoesn’tsayanything,Ihavemyanswer.“That’swhatIthought.Youthought
youcouldcomeouthereandsaysorryandIwouldacceptandstayasecret,your
boring little hidden girlfriend. You’re wrong; you took my kindness for
weaknessandyouweresadlymistaken.”
“Girlfriend?Youthoughtyouweremygirlfriend?”hehowls.
The pain in my chest is magnified by a thousand and I can barely stand.
“No...I,”Istarttosay.Idon’tknowwhattosay.
“Youdid,didn’tyou?”hesays,laughing.
“Youknow...Idid,”Iadmit.Iamalreadyhumiliated,soIhavenothingto
lose. “You fed me that bullshit about wanting more, and I believed you. I
believed all the shit you said to me, all the things you claimed to never tell
anyone, but I’m sure that was all bullshit, too. I’m sure none of that even
happened.”I shrug,giving upcompletely. “Butyou knowwhat? I’mnot even
madatyou;I’mmadatmyselfforbelievingit.IknewhowyouwerebeforeI
startedtofallforyou.Iknewyouwouldhurtme.Whatwereyourwords,You’ll
destroyme?No,ruin,you’llruinme.Well,congratulations,Hardin,youwon,”I
sob.
Painflashesinhiseyes...well,whatlookslikepain.Itisprobablyhumor.
Inolongercareaboutwinningorlosingorplayingtheseexhaustinggames.I
turnawayfromhimagainandbegintowalkbacktowardthehouse,figuringI’ll
findsomeone’sphonetousetocallLandonorsomehowgetaridebacktothe
dorms.
“Whereareyougoing?”heasks.Ithurtsthathedoesn’thaveanythingtosay,
that he has offered me no explanation. He has only confirmed what I already
knew,thatheisheartless.
I walk faster, ignoring him. He trails behind me, calling my name a couple
moretimes,butIrefusetoletmyselfbecharmedbyhisvoiceagain.
WhenIgetbacktothehouse’sfrontsteps,ofcourseIspotMolly’spinkhair
outside.“Aww,look,sheiswaitingforyou.Youtworeallyareperfectforeach
other,”IcallovermyshouldertoHardin.
“It’snotlikethatandyouknowit,”hegrumbles.
“Idon’tknowanything,obviously,”Isnapandclimbtwostepsatatime.
Zedappears inthe doorway, andI rushto hisside. “CanI useyour phone?
Please?”Ibegandhenods.
“Areyouokay?Itriedtogoafteryou,butyouwerelonggone,”hesaysandI
nod.
HardinstandsinfrontofZedandmewhileIcallLandonandaskhimtopick
meup.ZedandHardinstareateachotherforasecondwhentheyhearmesay
Landon’sname,thenZedlooksawayandbackdownatme.“Ishecoming?”he
asks,hisvoicefullofconcern.
“Yeah,hewillbehereinafewminutes.Thankyouforlettingmeuseyour
phone,”Itellhim,ignoringHardin.
“Noproblem.Doyouwantmetowaitwithyou?”heasks.
“No,Iwillwaitwithher,”Hardininjects,hisvoicefullofvenom.
“Iwouldloveitifyoucouldwaitwithme,Zed,”Isayandwalkbackdown
thesteps with him.Hardin, being theasshole thathe is, followsus and stands
behindusawkwardly.Steph,Tristan,andMollytrickledown,too.
“Areyouokay?”Stephasks.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “I’m leaving, though. I shouldn’t have even come
here.”
WhenStephhugsme,Mollymuttersunderherbreath,“Yougotthatright.”
Myheadsnapsaroundatthesoundofhervoice.Ihateconfrontationusually,
butIhateMollyevenmore.“You’reright!Ishouldn’tbehere.I’mnotasadept
asyouatgettingdrunkandhangingallovereveryguyintheplace.”
“Excuseme?”shesays.
“Youheardme.”
“What’s your problem? Mad that I kissed Hardin? Because, guess what,
sweetie,IkissHardinallthetime,”shebrags.
I feel the blood draining from my face. I look at Hardin, who doesn’t say
anything.Sohe’sbeenmessingwithMollytheentiretime?Thisdoesn’tsurprise
measmuchasitshould.Idon’tevenhaveacomebackforher.Itrytothinkof
somethingtosayback, anything really,butIcan’t.I’msureassoon as Iwalk
awayIwillthinkoftenreplies,butrightnowIhavenothing.
“Let’s go inside . . .” Tristan suggests and grabs Molly and Steph by their
arms.Itrytogivehimathankfulsmileastheystarttogo.
“Youtoo,Hardin.Getawayfromme,”Isayandstareatthestreet.
“Ihaven’tkissedher,Imeanlately.Exceptfortonight.Iswear,”hesays.
Whyishesayingthisinfrontofthem?
Mollyturnsaround.
“Idon’treallygiveashitwhoyoukiss.Nowgetawayfromme,”Irepeat.
AhugewaveofreliefwashesovermeasIseeLandon’scarpullup.“Thanks
again,”ItellZed.
“No problem, don’t forget what we talked about,” he says hopefully,
remindingmeofoursupposed“date.”
“Tessa...”HardincallsasIsteptowardthecar.WhenIignorehim,hecalls
louder.“Tessa!”
“Ihavesaideverything I havetosayto you, Hardin.Iamdone listening to
youandyourbullshit—nowleavemethefuckalone!”Iscream,turningaround
tofacehim.Iamawareeveryone’seyesareonus,butIhavehadenough.
“I...Tessa,I...”
“Youwhat?Youwhat,Hardin?”Iscreamevenlouder.
“I...Iloveyou!”heyells.
Andalltheairdisappearsfrommylungs.
AndMollysoundslikesheischoking.
AndStephlookslikeshehasseenaghost.
Andforafewmomentseveryonejuststandsthere,likesomethingalienhas
passedbyusandleftusfrozen.WhenatlastIcanspeak,Isayquietly,“You’re
sick,Hardin,you’rereallyfuckingsick.”
DespitethefactthatIknowthisispartofhisgame,itstillawakenssomething
insidemetohearthosewordscomeoffhislips.Igrabforthedoor handle on
Landon’scarbutIamyankedawaybyHardin.
“It’strue,Ido.Iknowyouwon’tbelieveme,butIdo.Iloveyou.”Hiseyes
brim with tears. His lips press in a hard line and he covers his face with his
hands.Hetakesastepback,thenanotherforward,andwhenhetakeshishands
away,hisgreeneyesappearsincere,fullofpanic.
Hardin...he’sabetteractorthanIthought.Ican’tbelieveheisdoingthisin
frontofeveryone.
Ishovehimbackwardandopenthecardoor,lockingitbeforeHardinregains
hisbalance.AsLandondrivesoff,Hardinbangshishandsagainstthewindow,
andIputmyhandsovermyfacesohedoesn’tseemecry.
chaptersixty-one
AfterIfinallystopsobbing,Landonquietlyasks,“DidIhearhimsaythathe
lovesyou?”
“Yeah...Idon’tknow...Hewasjusttryingtocauseasceneorsomething,”
Isay,andalmoststartcryingagain.
“Doyouthink...don’tgetmadatme...butdoyouthinkthatmaybehe
does?Youknow,loveyou?”
“What?Ofcoursenot.Iamnotevensureifheevenlikesme.Imean,when
we’realoneheissodifferent,andIthinkmaybehedoescareaboutme.ButI
knowhedoesn’tloveme.Heisn’tcapableoflovinganyoneotherthanhimself,”
Iexplain.
“I’monyourside,Tessa,Iam,”Landonreplies.“Butthelookonhisfaceas
we drove away, he looked heartbroken. And you can’t be heartbroken if you
aren’tinlove.”
Thatcan’tbe true.Ifeltmyheart shatter whenhekissedMolly, butIdon’t
lovehim.
“Doyoulovehim?”heaskssimply.
My voice comes out strained and my words too quick. “No. I don’t love
him...heis...well...he’sajerk.Ihaveknownhimlessthantwomonths,
andhalfofthat...actuallyallofthattimewe havespentfighting.Youcan’t
lovesomeoneyouonlymettwomonthsago.Besides,he’sajerk.”
“Youalreadysaidthat,”LandonsaysandInoticethehintofasmileonhis
lipsashetriestokeephisexpressionneutral.
I don’tlike the pressure that I feel in my chest as we talk about me loving
Hardin.Itmakesmefeelnauseousandthespaceinthecarfeelsmuchsmaller.I
roll down the window a crack and lean my head against it, feeling the little
streamofairslipacrossme.
“Doyouwanttocomebacktoourhouse,orgotoyourdorm?”heasks.
Iwanttogotomydormandcurlintoaballonmybed,butIamafraidthat
Steph or Hardin will show up. The chance of Hardin coming to his father’s
houseissoslim,thatseemstomethebetteroption.
“Yourhouse,butcanwegobymyroomsoIcangrabsomeclothes?I’msorry
foraskingyoutodrivemeallover.”
“Tessa,thedriveisshortandyou’remyfriend;stopthankingandapologizing
tome,”hesayssternly,buthissweetsmilemakesmelaugh.
HeisthebestpersonIhavemethereandIamsoluckytohavehim.
“Well,letmethankyouonelasttimeforbeingsuchagreatfriendtome,”I
say,andhefrownsplayfully.
“You’rewelcome.Nowlet’smoveon.”
I RUSH AROUND MY ROOM gathering my clothes and books. I feel like I
neverstayinmyroomanymore.ThiswillbethefirstnightindaysthatIwillbe
sleepingwithoutHardin.Iwasbeginningtogetusedtoit,howfoolishofme.I
grabmyphoneoutofmydrawerandwalkbacktoLandon’scar.
Whenwegettohishouseit’saftereleven.I’mexhausted,andthankfulthat
KenandKarenareasleepwhenwearrive.Landonputsapizzaintheovenforus
andIeatanotheroneofmycupcakesfromearlier.BakingwithKarenseemslike
weeksago,nothours.Ihavehadsuchalongday,anditstartedsowellwithmy
morningwithHardinandtheinternship,andthenheruinedit,justlikehealways
does.Afterweeatthepizza,LandonandIwalkupstairsandheshowsmetothe
guestroomthatIstayedinlasttime.Well,Ididn’tquitestayinthere,sinceIwas
woken up by a screaming Hardin. Time hasn’t made sense since I met him;
everythinghas happened so quickly, and itmakes me dizzy to thinkabout the
bettertimeswe’vehadandhowthey’respacedoutbetweenalotof arguing.I
thankLandonagainandherollshiseyesatmebeforeleavingmeandgoinginto
his room. I turn on my phone to find many texts from Hardin, Steph, and my
mother. I delete all but my mother’s message without reading them. I already
knowwhattheywillsayandIhavehadenoughofittoday.Iturnmyringtone
andtextnotificationsoff,putmypajamason,andclimbintothebed.
It’soneinthemorning,andIhavetowakeupinafewhours.Tomorrowis
goingtobealongday.IfIhadn’tmissedmymorningclassestoday,Iwouldjust
stayhome, well, here.Or go backto my dorm.Why did Iconvince Hardinto
comebacktoLiterature?Aftertossingandturning,Irollovertocheckthetime:
almostthree.Despitethefactthattodayhasbeenoneofthebest,andthenworst,
daysofmylife,Iamtooexhaustedtoevensleep.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m standing in front of Hardin’s bedroom
door.AndthenIenterit.Withnoonearoundbutmyselftojudgeme,Iopenthe
seconddrawerandgrabawhiteT-shirt.Icantellthatithasneverbeenwornbut
Idon’tcare. I pull my own shirtoffand replace it. I lie down on thebed and
burymyheadinthepillow.Hardin’smintyscentfillsmynostrilsandIfinally
fallasleep.
chaptersixty-two
WhenIwakeup,ittakesmeamomenttorememberthatIamnotinbedwith
Hardin. The sun is peacefully shining through the bay window and as I look
over,Icatchsightofafigureandsitupquickly,orientingmyself.Asmyeyes
adjustIamconvincedthatIamgoingmad.
“Hardin?”Isayquietlyandwipemyeyes.
“Hey,” he says from where he sits in a wingback chair, his elbows on his
knees.
“Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?”Isnap.Myheartachesalready.
“Tessa,weneedtotalk,”hesays,thebagsunderhiseyesprominent.
“Haveyoujustbeenwatchingmesleep?”Iask.
“No,ofcoursenot.Icameinhereafewminutesago,”hesays.Iwonderifhe
hadnightmareswithoutmeinbedwithhim.IfIhadn’twitnessedthemmyself,I
wouldthink thosewere part of his gamesas well,but I remember holdinghis
sweatyfacebetweenmyhandsandseeingtherealfearinhisgreeneyes.
Istaysilent.Idon’twanttofightwithhim.Ijustwanthimtogoaway.Ihate
thatIdon’tactuallywanthimtogoawaybutknowthathehasto.
“Weneedtotalk,”herepeats.WhenIshakemyheadno,herunsbothhands
throughhishairandtakesadeepbreath.
“Ihavetogotoclass,”Itellhim.
“Landonalreadyleft.Iturnedyouralarmoff.It’selevenalready.”
“Youwhat!”
“YouwereuplateandIthoughtyou—”hebegins.
“Howdareyoueven...Justgo.”Thepainfromhisactionsyesterdayisstill
fresh,andactuallyovershadowstheangerIfeelatmissingmymorningclasses,
butIcan’tshowanyweaknessorhewillpounceonit.Healwaysdoes.
“You’reinmyroom,”hepointsout.
Iclimboutofthebed,notcaringifIamonlyinaT-shirt,hisT-shirt.“You’re
right.I’llgo,”Isay,thelumpinmythroatgrowingandtearsthreateningtospill
out.
“No,Imeant...Imeant:youareinmyroom...Why?”Hisvoiceisbleak.
“I don’t know . . . I just . . . I couldn’t sleep . . .” I admit. I need to stop
talking.“It’snotreallyyourroomanyway.I’vesleptherejustasmanytimesas
youhave.Actuallymorenow,”Ipointout.
“Yourownshirtdidn’tfit?”heasks,hiseyesfocusedonthewhiteshirt.Of
courseheismakingfunofme.
“Goahead,teaseme,”Isay,thetearspoolingatthebottomofmyeyes.He
makeseyecontactwithmebutIlookaway.
“Iwasn’tteasingyou.”Hestandsupfromthechairandtakesasteptoward
me.Ibackawayandraisemyhandstoblockhimandhestops.“Justhearme
out,okay?”
“Whatelse could you possibly haveto say, Hardin? We always do this. We
havethesamefightoverandover,onlyworseeachtime.Ican’tdoitanymore.I
can’t.”
“IsaidIwassorryforkissingher,”hesays.
“Thatisn’twhatthisisabout.Well,that’spartofit,butthereissomuchmore.
Thefact that youdon’tgetthatproves that weare wasting ourtime. You will
neverbewhoIneedyoutobe,andIamnotwhoyouwantmetobe.”Iwipemy
eyesashelooksoutthewindow.
“ButyouarewhoIwantyoutobe,”hesays.
IwishIcouldbelievehim.Iwishhewasn’tsoincapableoffeelings.
“You’renot,”isallIcansay.Ididn’twanttocryinfrontofhim,butIcan’t
seemto stop myself. I havecried somany times since I met him, andif I get
tangledbackintohisweb,thisishowitwillalwaysbe.
“I’mnotwhat?”
“Who I want you to be; you do nothing but hurt me.” I walk past him and
crossthehalltotheguestroom.Ihastilypullmypantsupmylegsandgather
mythings,Hardin’seyesfollowingmyeverymove.
“Didn’tyouhearwhatItoldyouyesterday?”hefinallysays.
Iwashopinghewouldn’tbringthisup.
“Answerme,”hesays.
“Yeah...Iheardyou,”Itellhim,avoidinglookinginhisdirection.
Hisvoicebecomeshostile.“Andyouhavenothingtosayaboutit?”
“No,”Ilie.Hestepsinfrontofme.“Move,”Ibeg.
HeisdangerouslyclosetomeandIknowwhatheisgoingtodoashemoves
intokissme.Itrytobackawayfromhim,buthisstronghandspullmecloser,
holdingmeinplace.Hislipstouchmine,andhistonguetriestopushthrough
mylipsbutIrefuse.
Heeaseshisheadbackslightly.“Kissmeback,Tess,”hedemands.
“No.”Ipushathischest.
“Tellmeyoudon’tfeelthesame,andIwillgo.”Hisfaceisinchesfrommine,
hisbreathhotonmyface.
“Idon’t.”Ithurtstosaythewordsbuthehastogo.
“Yes,youdo,”hesays,histonedesperate.“Iknowyoudo.”
“Idon’t,Hardin, andneither do you. You can’t possibly think that I bought
that?”
Heletsgoofme.“Youdon’tbelievethatIloveyou?”
“Ofcoursenot,howstupiddoyouthinkIam?”
Hestaresatmeforasecondbeforeheopenshismouthandclosesitagain.
“You’reright,”hesays.
“What?”
He shrugs. “You’re right, I don’t.I don’tlove you, Iwas just addingto the
dramaofthewholething.”Helaughslightly.Iknowhedidn’tmeanit,butthat
doesn’tmakehishonestyhurtanyless.Apartofme,alargerpartthanIwantto
accept,hopesthatheactuallydid.
HestandsagainstthewallasIwalkoutoftheroom,mybaginhand.
AsIreachthestairs,Karensmilesupatme.“Tessa,sweetheart,Ididn’tknow
you were here!” Her smile fades as she notices my distressed state. “Are you
okay?Didsomethinghappen?”
“No,I’mgood.IwaslockedoutofmyroomlastnightandI...”
“Karen,”Hardin’svoicesaysfrombehindme.
“Hardin!”Hersmileslightlyreturns.“Wouldyoutwolikesomethingtoeat,
somebreakfast?Well,lunch,it’snoon.”
“No,thankyou,Iwasjustgoingbacktothedorms,”ItellherasIdescend.
“Icouldeat,”Hardinsaysbehindme.
Sheseemssurprisedasshelooksatmeandthenbackathim.“Okay,great!I
willbeinthekitchen!”
Aftershedisappears,Iheadforthedoor.
“Whereareyougoing?”Hegrabsmywrist.Istruggleforasecondbeforehe
releasesit.
“Thedorms,likeIjustsaid.”
“You’rejustgoingtowalk?”
“Whatiswrongwithyou?Youactlikenothingishappening,likewehaven’t
just been fighting, like you haven’t done anything. You are seriously insane,
Hardin—I’mtalkingmentalinstitution,medicated,padded-wallsinsane.Yousay
horriblethingstomeandthentrytooffermearide?”Ican’tkeepupwithhim.
“Ididn’tsayanythinghorrible,actually;allIsaidwasthatIdon’tloveyou,
whichyouclaimyoualreadyknew.Andsecondly,Iwasn’tofferingyouaride.I
wassimplyaskingifyouweregoingtowalkback.”
Hissmugexpressionmakesmedizzy.Whywouldheevencomeheretofind
me if he doesn’t care about me? Doesn’t he have anything better to do than
tortureme?
“WhatdidIdo?”Ifinallyask.Ihavebeenwantingtoaskthisforawhile,but
I’vealwaysbeenafraidofhisanswer.
“What?”
“WhatdidIdotomakeyouhateme?”Iask,tryingtokeepmyvoicedownso
Karen doesn’t hear me. “You can have practically any girl you want and you
continuetowasteyourtime—andmine—tofindnewwaystohurtme.What’s
thepoint?Doyoudislikemethatmuch?”
“No,it’snotthat.Idon’tdislikeyou,Tessa.Youjustmadeyourselfaneasy
target—it’s all about the chase, right?” he says boastfully. Before he can say
anythingelse,Karencallshisnameandasksifhewantspicklesonhissandwich.
Hewalkstothekitchenandanswersher;Iwalkoutthedoor.
Onthewaytothebusstop,IfigurethatI’vealreadymissedsomanyclasses
latelyImightaswellmisstherestofthedayandgetacar.Luckily,thebuspulls
upminuteslaterandIfindaseatintheveryback.
As I slump down in the seat, I think back to what Landon said about
heartbreak,thatifyoudon’tlovetheperson,theycan’tbreakyourheart.Hardin
repeatedlybreaksmyheart,evenwhenIdon’tthinkthereareanymorepiecesto
break.
AndIlovehim.IloveHardin.
chaptersixty-three
Thesalesmanisacreepandsmellslikestalecigarettes,butIcan’tbepickyany
longer.Afteranhourofnegotiating,Iwritehimacheckforthedownpayment
andhegivesmethekeystoadecent2010Corolla.Thewhitepaintischippedin
afewplaces,butImanagedtotalkhimdownlowenoughthatIcanletitslide.I
callmymotherbeforeIdriveoutofthelottotellher,andofcourseshesaysI
shouldhavegottenabiggercarandliststhereasonswhy.Ienduppretendingto
loseserviceandshutmyphoneoff.
Itfeels amazing todrivemy owncar.I no longerhave to dependon public
transportationandnowI candrivemyselfto my internship.Ihope my cutting
tieswithHardindoesn’taffectit.Idon’tthinkitcan,butwhatifheisboredwith
justsimplymakingmecryanddoessomethingtoruinit?MaybeIshouldtalkto
KenandtrytoexplainthatHardinandIarenolonger...dating?Hethinkswe
aredating,soI will havetocomeup with something besides“Yoursonis the
cruelestpersonintheworldandheistoxictomesoIcannolongerbearound
him.”
IturntheradioonandturnituplouderthanIusuallywould,butitdoeswhat
Ineeditto.ItdrownsoutmythoughtsandIfocusoneverylyrictoeverysong.I
ignorethefactthateverysongseemstoremindmeofHardin.
Before heading back to campus, I decide to go buy some more clothes. It’s
getting colder, so I need some more jeans, and besides, I’m growing tired of
wearingmylongskirtsallthetime.Iendupbuyingafewnewoutfitstowearto
Vance,someplainshirtsandcardigans,andacoupleofpairsofjeans.Theyare
tighterthanusualbuttheylookgoodonme.
Stephisn’tintheroomwhenIreturn,whichisgood.IreallythinkImayneed
to look into changing rooms. I do like Steph, but we can’t continue to live
togetherifHardinisaround.DependingonhowmuchIwillbemakingatmy
internship,Icouldgetmyownapartmentandliveoffcampus.Mymotherwould
loseitbutitisn’tuptoher.
Ifoldmynewclothesandputthemawaybeforegrabbingmytoiletrybagand
heading to the showers. When I return, Steph and Zed are sitting on her bed,
lookingathercomputer.
Great.
She looks up sleepily. “Hey, Tessa, did Hardin ever find you last night?”
WhenInod,sheasks,“Sodidyouworkitout?”
“No.Well,yeah,Iguess.Iamdonewithhim,”Itellher.Hereyesgowide;
shemusthaveassumedhewouldsinkhisclawsbackintome.
“Well, I for one am glad.” Zed smiles and Steph swats his arm. Her phone
beepsandshelooksdown.
“Tristanishere,wegottago.Wannacome?”sheasks.
“No,thanks.I’mgonnastayhere—butIdidgetacartoday!”Itellherandshe
squeals.
“Really! That’s awesome!” she says and I nod. “You’ll have to show me it
whenIgetback,”shesaysandtheyheadforthedoor.StephwalksoutbutZed
lingersinthedoorway.
“Tessa?”Hisvoiceisassmoothasvelvet.Ilookupandhesmilesatme.“Did
youthinkaboutourdate?”heasks,staringintomyeyes.
“I . . .” I am about to reject him, but why? He’s very attractive and seems
sweet. He didn’t take advantage of me when he easily could have. I know he
would be better company than Hardin; anyone would be, honestly. “Sure.” I
smile.
“Sureasinyouwillletmetakeyouout?”Hissmilegrows.
“Yeah,whynot?”Ireply.
“Tonight,then?”
“Yeah,tonightisgood.”Idon’tthinktonightisagoodidea,seeingasIhave
studyingtomakeupfor,butI’mstillaheadofthecoursedespitehavingmisseda
fewclassesthisweek.
“Awesome,I’llbehereatseven,yeah?”
“Okay.”
Hebringshislowerlipbetweenhisperfectteeth.“Seeyoutonight,beautiful,”
hesaysandIflush,wavinggoodbyeasheleavestheroom.
Itisfournow,soIhavethreehours.Iblow-drymyhairandcurltheends,and
tomysurpriseitlooksreallygood.Iapplylightmakeupandputononeofmy
newoutfits,apair ofdarkjeans,awhitetanktop,andalong browncardigan.
MynervesaregettingthebestofmeasIstareintothemirror.MaybeIshould
change?Iswitchtoabluetanktopandabutton-upshirt.Ican’tbelieveIam
goingonadatewithZed.I’vehadoneboyfriendinmyentirelife,andnowIam
going on a date with Zed after all this mess with Hardin. Maybe guys with
tattoosandpiercingsaremynewtype?
IpulloutmyoldcopyofPrideandPrejudiceandbegintoreadtopassthe
time.But my mind wanders, and thoughts of Noah continueto preoccupyme.
Should I call him? I reach for my phone and scroll through the names until I
reachhis.Istareatthescreen;myguiltandmycommonsensefightitoutuntilI
tossmyphonebackontomybed.
WHATSEEMSLIKEjustminuteslater,thereisaknockatthedoor.Iknowit
must be Zed because Hardin wouldn’t knock. He would rudely barge in and
throwmystuffallovertheplace.
WhenIopenthedoorIcan’thelpbutgape.Zedisdressedintightblackjeans,
whitesneakers,andaT-shirtwithacutoffjeanjacketoverit.Helookssohot.
“Youlookbeautiful,Tessa,”hesays,andthenhandsmeaflower.
Aflower?I’mbothsurprisedandflatteredbyZed’sthoughtfulgift.
“Thankyou.”Ismileandbringthewhitelilytomynose.
“Areyouready?”heaskspolitely.
“Yes,whereareyoutakingme?”Iaskhimaswewalkoutside.
“Ifiguredwe’djustgotodinnerandamovie,somethingcasual,nopressure.”
Hebeams.
Ireachforthepassengerdoorhandlebuthestopsme.“Allowme,”he says
withhumorinhisvoice.
“Oh.Thanks.”
I’mstillnervous,butZed’ssoniceitmakesiteasytostarttorelax.Whenwe
get into the car he keeps the radio off and makes small talk, asking about my
family and my plans after college. He tells me how he is going to WCU for
environmentalscience,whichsurprisesbutintriguesme.
We arrive at a casual café-style restaurant and sit out on the patio. After
orderingourmeals,wecontinuechattinguntilthefoodcomes.Zedeatsallofhis
foodandbeginstostealfriesoffmyplate.
I lift my fork menacingly. “If you take another fry, I’ll have to kill you,” I
tease.
He gives me a mock-innocent look and laughs with his tongue between his
teeth.Ifindmyselflaughingforwhatseemslikeages,anditfeelsgreat.
“Youhaveanadorablelaugh,”hesays,andIrollmyeyes.
Weendupgoingtoseeacheesycomedythatfailstoentertaineitherofus.
But that’s okay, because we entertain ourselveswith small jokes to each other
during the movie, and toward the end he puts his hand over mine. It’s not
uncomfortable,likeIhadassumedthatitwouldbe,butitdoesn’tfeelthesame
as when Hardin does it. And right then it occurs to me that I made it hours
without even thinking of Hardin, which is a refreshing change from him
consumingmythoughtseveryday,allday.
When Zed gets me back to campus, it’s almost eleven. I’m glad it’s
Wednesday—onlytwomoredaysuntiltheweekend,whenIcancatchuponmy
sleep.
HegetsoutofthecarandwalksovertomeasIadjustmypurseonmyhip.“I
hadareallynicetime;thankyouforagreeingtocomeoutwithme,”hesays.
“Ihadanicetime,too.”Ismile.
“Iwasthinking...rememberwhenyouaskedifIwasgoingtothebonfire?”
WhenInod,heasks,“DoyoumindifIcomealong?”
“Sure, that would be fine. I’ll be going with Landon and his girlfriend,
though.” I don’t recall Zed joining in on the group teasing Landon, but I just
wanttomakesureheknowsthatitisnotokay.
“That’sfine,heseemsnice,”hesaysandIsmile.
“Well, it’s settled, then. Meet you there?” I suggest. There is no way I am
takinghimtodinneratLandon’shouse.
“Soundsgood.Thanksagainfortonight.”Hetakesastepcloser.
Ishe going tokiss me? I start to panic. But instead he wraps his hand over
mine and brings it up to his mouth. Placing one single kiss on the top of my
hand,hislipsaresoftagainstmyhotskinandhisgestureisverysweet.
“Haveagoodnight,Tessa,”hesaysandgetsbackintohiscar.
Iletoutadeepbreath,relievedthathedidn’ttrytoreallykissme.He’scute,
andwasagoodkisserduringTruthorDare,butthetimingjustdoesn’tfeelright.
THENEXTMORNINGLandoniswaitingatthecoffeehouseformeandItell
himaboutZed.
Annoyingly,thefirstthinghesaysis“DoesHardinknowaboutthis?”
“No,andhedoesn’tneedto.It’snoneofhisbusiness.”Irealizemytonewasa
littletooharsh,soIadd,“I’msorry,it’sjustatouchysubject.”
“Obviously. Justbe careful,” he warns mesweetly and I promise himthat I
will.
The rest of the day zooms by and Landon doesn’t bring up Hardin or Zed
again.Finallyit’stimeforLiterature,andIholdmybreathasLandonandIwalk
into the room, where Hardin is sittingin his usualseat. My chestaches at the
sightofhim.Heglancesoveratmebutthenturnsbacktothefrontoftheroom.
“SoyouwentoutwithZedlastnight?”heasksasIsitdown.Iwaspraying
thathewouldn’ttalktome.
“That’snoneofyourconcern,”Ireplyquietly.
Heturnsinhisseatandbringshisfaceclosetomine.“Wordtravelsquicklyin
ourgroup,Tessa,rememberthat.”
Ishetryingtothreatentotellhisfriendsaboutallthethingswedidtogether?
Thethoughtmakesmybilerise.
Iturnawayfromhimandfocusmyattentiontotheprofessor,whoclearshis
throat and says, “Okay, everyone, let’s start where we left off yesterday
discussingWutheringHeights.”
My stomach drops. We aren’t supposed to be discussing Wuthering Heights
untilnextweek—thisiswhatIgetformissingclass.IfeelHardin’seyesonme.
Perhaps,likeme,heisthinkingaboutthefirsttimeIwasinhisbedroomandhe
caughtmereadinghiscopyofthenovel.
Our teacher paces before us, his hands clasped behind his back. “So, as we
know,CatherineandHeathcliffhadaverypassionaterelationship,theirpassion
beingsuchaforceinthenovelthatitruinedessentiallyeveryothercharacter’s
life in its wake. Some argue that they were terrible for each other, and some
argue that they should have married one another instead of fighting their love
from the beginning.” He pauses, looking out at all of us. “So, what do you
think?”heasks.
Usually, I would raise my hand immediately, proud to show off my expert
knowledgeonclassicnovels,butthisonehitstooclosetohome.
Avoicefromthebackoftheroomanswers,“Ithinktheywereterribleforone
another; they fought constantly and Catherine refused to admit her love for
Heathcliff. She married Edgar, even though she knew she was in love with
Heathclifftheentiretime.Iftheywouldhavejustbeentogetherinthebeginning,
everyonewouldhavebeenalotlessmiserable.”
Hardinlooks atme, andI feelmy cheeksheat up.“I thinkCatherine wasa
selfish, pompous bitch,” he lets out. Gasps fill the room and the professor
glowersatHardin,buthecontinues.“Sorry,but she thought she wastoogood
forHeathcliff—andmaybeshewas,butsheknewEdgarcouldnevercompareto
Heathcliffandyetshemarriedhimanyway.CatherineandHeathcliffwerejust
so similar that it was hard for them to get along, but if Catherine wasn’t so
stubborntheycouldhavelivedalongandhappylifetogether.”
IfeelfoolishasI,too,begintocompareHardinandmyselftothecharacters
inthenovel.ThedifferenceisthatHeathclifflovedCatherinetremendously,so
muchsothathesatbyidlyasshemarriedanothermanbeforehefinallymarried
someoneelse.Hardindoesnotlovemethatway—oratall—sohehasnorightto
comparehimselftoHeathcliff.
The entire class seems to be looking at me, waiting for my reply. They are
probablyhopingforanargumentlikelasttime,butIstayquiet.IknowHardinis
tryingtobaitme,andIwillnotfallforit.
chaptersixty-four
After class I say goodbye to Landon and walk straight to the professor to
explainmyabsences.Hecongratulatesmeonmyinternshipandexplainsthathe
rearrangedthesyllabusalittle.IkeepourconversationgoinguntilHardinexits
theroom.
Imakemywaybacktomyroom,whereIlayoutallmynotesandtextbooks
onmybed.ItrytostudybutfeelonedgewaitingforSteph,Hardin,oroneof
themanyotherpeoplewhoarealwaysinandoutofmyroom,toshowup.Ipack
mystudymaterialsintomybagandheadtomycar.Iwillfindaplacetostudy
offcampus,maybeacoffeeshop.
Drivingtowardtown,Ispyasmalllibraryonthecornerofabusystreet.Only
afewcarsareinthelot,soIpullin.Iwalkallthewaytothebackofthelibrary
andsitnexttothewindow,pullingallofmybooksandnotesoutsoIcangetto
work.Forthefirst time, I canstudyinpeace, no distractions.Thiswillbemy
newsanctuary,theperfectplacetostudy.
“MISS,WEARECLOSINGinfiveminutes,”anelderlylibrariancomesoverto
informme.
Closing?Lookingoutthewindow,Iseethatitisdarkout.Ididn’tevennotice
thesungoingdown.Iwassoengrossedinmybooks,hourspassedandIdidn’t
evennotice.Iwilldefinitelyhavetocomeheremoreoften.
“Oh,okay,thankyou,”Ireplyandpackupmythings.Checkingmyphone,I
seeanewtextfromZed.
Ijustwantedtotellyougoodnight,Ican’twaitforFriday.
Hereallyisverynice,soIreply,Thatisverysweet,thankyou.Iamlookingforwardtoit
too.
Backintheroom,Stephisstillgone,soIchangeintomypajamasandgrab
WutheringHeights.Ifallasleepquickly,dreamingofHeathcliffandthemoors.
WHENIWAKEUPONFRIDAY,IhaveatextmessagefromLandontellingme
thathewon’tbeoncampusatalltodaybecauseDakotaisarrivingearlierthan
he thought. Skipping Literature crosses my mind momentarily, but I decide
againstit.Ican’tletHardinruinanythingelseIlike.
Itakealittlemoretimetogetreadytodayandbraidthefrontofmyhairback
beforecurlingit.It’ssupposedtobewarm,soIwearapurplesleevelessfleece
jacketandjeans.When Igotothecoffeehousebeforeclass,Loganendsupin
frontofmeinline.BeforeIcanwalkawayunnoticed,heturnsaround.
“Hey,Tessa,”hesays.
“Hey,Logan.Howareyou?”Iaskpolitely.
“I’mgood,youcomingtonight?”
“Tothebonfire?”
“No,theparty.Thebonfireisgoingtobelame,italwaysis.”
“Ohwell,I’mgoingtothebonfire.”Ilaughlightlyandhechuckles.
“Well,ifyougetbored,youcanalwaysstopby,”hesaysandgrabshiscoffee.
Ithankhimashewalksaway,relievedthatHardin’sgroupseemsuninterested
inthebonfire,whichmeansIwon’thavetodealwithanyofthemtonight.
Whenit’stimeforLiterature,Iwalkrighttomyseatwithoutasingleglance
in Hardin’s direction. The discussion continues on Wuthering Heights, but
Hardin stays silent. As soon as we are dismissed, I gather my things and
practicallybolttothedoor.
“Tessa!”IhearHardincallbehindme,butIjustwalkfaster.WithoutLandon
hereIfeelmorevulnerable.WhenIreachthesidewalk,Ifeelalighttouchon
myarm.Iknowit’shimfromthewaymyskintingles.
“What!”Ishout.
Hetakesastepbackandholdsoutanotebook.“Youdroppedthis.”
Reliefanddisappointmentbattleinsideme.Iwishthisacheinmychestwould
goaway.Insteadofshrinking,itseemstogetlargereverymomentofeveryday.
I shouldn’t have admitted to myself that I love him—if I would have kept
ignoringthetruth,maybeitwouldhurtless.
“Oh,thanks,”Imumbleandgrabthenotebookfromhim.Hiseyescatchmine
andwejuststareatoneanotheruntilafterafewsecondsIrememberthatweare
standing on a crowded sidewalk and I look around at everyone passing by us.
Hardinshakeshishairoutandpushesitbackbeforeheturnsandwalksaway.
IHEADTOMYCARanddrivestraighttoLandon’s.Iwasn’tgoingtogountil
five;it’sonlythree,butIcan’tsitaloneinmyroom.Ireallyhavegonemental
sinceHardincameintomylife.
WhenIarrive,Karenanswersthedoorwithahugesmileandinvitesmein.
“It’s onlyme hereright now.Dakota and Landonare at thestore fetchinga
fewthingsforme,”shesaysasshebringsmeintothekitchen.
“That’sokay,sorryforcomingsoearly.”
“Oh,don’tbesorry. You can helpme cook!”She hands me a cuttingboard
and a few onions and potatoes to chop and we talk about the weather and the
upcomingwinter.
“Tessa,did youstill want tohelp meget the greenhouse going? It’sclimate
controlled,sowedon’thavetoworryaboutthewinter.”
“Yes,ofcourse!Iwouldloveto.”
“Great,maybetomorrow?NextweekendIwillbealittlebusy,”shejokes.
Herwedding.I’dalmostforgotten.Itry tosmilebackather. “Yeah,I’dsay
so.”IwishIcould’vegottenHardintoagreetogo,butitwasimpossiblethen
andit’sevenmoreimpossiblenow.
Karenputs the chicken in theoven and gathersplates and silverware so we
can set the table. “Is Hardin coming to dinner tonight?” she asks as we start
layingthingsout.She’sclearlytryingtosoundnonchalant,butIcanseeshe’sa
littlenervousaboutthequestion.
“No,hewon’tbecoming,”Itellherandlookdown.
Shestopswhatshe’sdoing.“Areyouguysokay?Idon’tmeantobenosy.”
“That’sallright.”Imightaswelltellher.“Idon’tthinkwe’reokay.”
“Oh,honey,I’msorrytohearthat.Youtworeallyhadsomething,Ithought.
But I know it’s really hard to be with someone who is afraid to show their
feelings.”
Thislineofconversationmakesmefeelalittleweird.Ican’teventalktomy
ownmotheraboutstufflikethis,butsomethingaboutKaren’sopennessmakes
memoreabletodiscussthissortofthing.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Well, I don’t know Hardin as well as I wish I did, but I know he is very
closedoffemotionally.Kenusedtostayawakenightsworryingabouthim.He
hasalwaysbeenanunhappychild.”Hereyesgoglossy.“Hewouldn’teventell
hismomhelovedher.”
“What?”Isayagain.
“Hejustwon’tsayit.Iamnotsurewhy.Kencan’trecallasingletimewhen
Hardin said he loved either of them. It’s truly sad, not only for Ken, but for
Hardinaswell.”Sheblotshereyes.
Forsomeonewhorefusestotellanyone,evenhisownparents,thatheloves
them,hesurewasquicktousethewordsagainstmeinahatefulway.“Heis...
He’sverydifficulttounderstand,”isallIcanthinktosay.
“Yes,yes,heis.But,Tessa,Ihopeyou’llstillcomearoundevenifyoutwo
don’tworkthingsout.”
“Ofcourse,”Itellher.
PERHAPS SENSING MY MOOD, Karen switches to talk of the greenhouse
whilewewaitforthefoodtofinishcookingandthenputeverythingoutonthe
table.Midwaythroughasentence,Karenstopsandputsonawidesmile.Iturn
tofindLandonwalkingintothekitchenfollowedbyabeautifulgirlwithcurly
hair.Iknewshewouldbegorgeous,butsheisevenmoresothanIcouldhave
imagined.
“Hi, you must be Tessa,” she says even as Landon opens his mouth to
introduceus.Sheimmediatelycomesoverandhugsme,andIimmediatelylike
her.
“Dakota, I have heard so much about you—it’s nice to finally meet you!” I
say,andshesmiles.Landon’seyesfollowherasshewalkspastandhugsKaren,
thentakesaseatatthecounter.
“WepassedKenonourwayhere.Hewasgettinggas,soheshouldbehere
anyminute,”Landontellshismom.
“Great,TessaandIhavealreadysetthetable.”
Landon goes over to where Dakota sits, puts his arm around her waist, and
leads her to the table. I take my seat across from them and glance over at the
empty place setting next to me, which Karen had set up for “purposes of
symmetry,” but it just makes me a little sad. In another life Hardin would be
sitting next to me, holding my hand the way Landon is Dakota’s, and I could
leanintohimwithoutfearofbeingrejected.I’mbeginningtowishIhadinvited
Zed even though it would have been extremely awkward; having dinner with
twodeeplyin-lovecouplesmayproveworse.
Kenenters,savingmefrommythoughts.HewalksoverandkissesKarenon
hercheekbeforesittingdown.
“Dinnerlooksgreat,honey,”hesaysandplayfullyplacesanapkinonhislap.
“Dakota, you get more beautiful each time I see you.” He smiles at her, then
turnstome.“AndTessa,congratulationsonyourinternshipatVance.Christian
calledmeandtoldme.Youmadeawonderfulfirstimpressiononhim.”
“Thankyouagainforcallinghim;it’ssuchanamazingopportunity.”Ismile
andthe table’ssilent for a momentwhile weall tryKaren’s chicken, which is
delicious.
“SorryI’mlate,”Ihearfrombehindmeandmyforkfallsoutofmyhandonto
myplate.
“Hardin!I didn’tknow you were coming!” Karen says nicely, then looks at
me.Ilookaway.Mypulseisalreadyquickening.
“Yeah,rememberwediscusseditlastweek,Tessa?”Hesmileshismenacing
smileandtakestheseatnexttome.
Whatiswrongwithhim?Whycan’thejustleavemealone?Iknowitispartly
myfaultforlettinghimgettome,buthereallyenjoysplayingcat-and-mouse.
Everyone’seyesareonme,soInodandpickupmyfork.Dakotalooksconfused
andLandonlooksworried.
“YoumustbeDelilah?”Hardinsaystoher.
“Oh,Dakota,actually,”shecorrectshimsweetly.
“Yeah,Dakota.Samething,”hemuttersandIkickhimunderthetable.
Landonglaresathim,butHardindoesn’tseemtonotice.KenandKarengo
intoconversationbetweenthemselves,asdoDakotaandLandon.Istayfocused
onmyfoodandthinkofanexitstrategy.
“So,how’syoureveningsofar?”Hardinasksinacasualtone.Heknowsthat
Iwon’tcauseascene,soheistryingtoannoyme.
“Fine,”Ianswerquietly.
“You’renotgoingtoaskmehowmineis?”Hesmirks.
“Nope,”Imumbleandtakeanotherbite.
“Tessa,wasthatyourcaroutside?”KenasksandInod.
“Ohyeah,Ifinallygotmyowncar!”Isay,withalittleextraexcitementinthe
hopesthateveryoneelsewilljoininsoI’mnotstucktalkingtojustHardin.
Hardinraiseshiseyebrowatme.“When?”
“The other day,” I answer. You know, the day that you told me that it’s all
aboutthechase?
“Oh.Wheredidyougetit?”
“Aused-carlot,”IanswerandwatchDakotaandKarenbothtrytohidetheir
smiles.Sensinganopportunitytodirecttheattentionoffme,Isay,“So,Dakota,
LandontoldmeyouwerethinkingofgoingtoNewYorkforaballetschool?”
She tells us all about her plans to move to New York, and Landon looks
genuinelyhappyforherdespitethedistancethatwillstaybetweenthem.
Whenshefinishes,Landonlooksathisphoneandsays,“Well,weshouldget
goingsoon.Thatbonfirewaitsfornoman.”
“What?”Karensays.“Okay,butatleasttakesomeofthedessertwithyou!”
LandonnodsandhelpsherputsomeintoaTupperwarecontainer.
“Are you going to ride with me?” Hardin says. I look around like I’m
confusedaboutwhomhe’saddressing.
“I’mtalkingtoyou,”hestates.
“What?No,you’renotgoing,”Itellhim.
“Yes,Iam.Andyoucan’tstopmefromgoing,soyoumightaswellridewith
me.”Hesmilesandtriestoputhishandonmythigh.
“Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?”Isayundermybreath.
“Canwetalkoutside?”heasksandlookstowardhisfather.
“No,”Isayquietly—everytimeHardinandI“talk,”Iendupcrying.
But Hardin stands up quickly and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet.
“We’llbeoutside,”heannounces,andpullsmethroughthelivingroomandout
thefrontdoor.
Oncewe’reoutside,Iyankmyarmawayandwarnhim,“Stoptouchingme!”
Heshrugs.“Sorry,butyouweren’tgoingtocomewithme.”
“BecauseIdidn’twantto.”
“I am sorry. For everything, okay?” His fingers play with his lip ring and I
avoidfocusingonhismouth.Istareatthewayhiseyessearchmyface.
“You’resorry?You’renotsorry,Hardin—youjustwanttomesswithme.Just
stop.Iamexhaustedanddrainedfromfightingwithyouallthetime.Ican’tdoit
anymore.Isn’tthereanyone else thatyou canmess with? Heck, I’ll evenhelp
youfindsomeone,somepoorinnocentgirlforyoutotortureaslongasitisn’t
me.”
“That’snotwhatIamdoing.IknowIambackandforthalotwithyou,andI
don’tknowwhyIdoit.Butifyougivemeonechance,onemorechance,Iwill
stop.ItriedtostayawayfromyoubutIcan’t.Ineedyou...”Helooksdownat
thedeck,rubbingthetipsofhisbootstogether.
Theaudacityofwhathe’ssayinghelpsmekeepmytearsincheckthistime;
hisegohasseenquiteenoughofthem.“Stop!Juststop.Aren’tyoutiredofthis?
Ifyouneededmeyouwouldn’ttreatmethewayyoudo.Youtoldmeyourselfit
wasallaboutthechase,remember?Youcan’tjustshowuphereaftereverything
andactlikenothinghappened.”
“Ididn’tmeanthat.YouknowIdidn’t.”
“Soyouadmityoujustsaidittohurtme?”Iglareathim,tryingtokeepmy
guardup.
“Yeah...”Helooksdown.
I’msoconfusedbyhim;hesayshewantsmore,thenhekissesMolly,thenhe
tellsmehelovesmeandtakesitback,andnowheisapologizingagain?“Why
should I forgive you—you just admitted that you did something solely to hurt
me.”
“Onemorechance?Please,Tess.I’lltellyoueverything,”hepleads.Ialmost
believethepaininhiseyesashelooksdownatme.
“Ican’t,Ihavetogo.”
“Whycan’tIcomewithyou?”heasks.
“Because...becauseIammeetingZedthere.”
Iwatchas his expressionchangesand seems tocrumplebeforeme. It takes
everythinginmenottocomforthim.ButHardindidthistohimself.Evenifhe
actuallydoescare,it’stoolate.
“Zed?Soareyouguys,what...datingnow?”Histoneisfullofdisgust.
“No,wehaven’teventalkedaboutit.Wearejust...Idon’tknow,spending
timetogether,Iguess.”
“Youhaven’ttalkedaboutit?Soifheaskedyou,youwould?”
“Idon’tknow...”AndIhonestlydon’tknow.“Heisniceandpoliteandhe
treatsmewell.”WhyamIevenexplainingmyselftothisboy?
“Tessa,youdon’tevenknowhim,youdon’tknow—”
ThefrontdoorshootsopenandanexuberantLandonasks,“Ready?”
His eyes dart to Hardin, who for once looks unguarded and even . . .
heartbroken.
I force my feet toward my car and follow Landon as he pulls out of the
driveway. I can’thelp but look back at Hardin, who is still on the porch, still
staringbackatmeasIdriveaway.
chaptersixty-five
PullingintothespotnexttoLandon,ItextZedtotellhimthatIhavearrived.
Hewritesbackimmediatelywithanotetomeethimatthefarleftcornerofthe
field.
ItellLandonwherehe’llbeasheandDakotawalkup.
“Soundsgood,”hesays,butheseemslessthanthrilled.
“Who’sZed?”Dakotaasks.
“He’smy...friend.”Heisjustmyfriend.
“Hardin’syourboyfriend,right?”sheasks.
Ilookoverather.Shedoesn’tseemtobeimplyinganything,shejustseems
confused.Welcometotheclub.
“No,babe.”Landonlaughs.“Neitherofthemare.”
Ilaugh,too.“It’snotasbadasitsounds.”
Rightaswegettowhereeveryoneis,theschoolbandbeginstoplayandthe
field becomes more and more crowded. I’m relieved when I spot Zed leaning
againstthefence.Ipointhimout,andweheadoverthere.
“Oh,” Dakota squeals as we get close. I can’t tell if she’s surprised by his
tattoosandpiercings,orhisgoodlooks.Maybeboth.
“Hey,beautiful,”Zedsays,beaming,and hugs me. I smileathim,returning
thehug.
“Hi, I’m Zed. It’s nice to meet you both.” He nods toward Landon and
Dakota.Iknowhe’smetLandonbefore,somaybehe’sjusttryingtobepolite.
“Haveyoubeenherelong?”Iask.
“Onlyabouttenminutes.AlotmorepeopleherethanIexpected.”
Landon leads the way to a less crowded area near the enormous mound of
wood,andweallsitonthegrass.DakotasitsbetweenLandon’slegsandleans
back against his chest. The sun is going down and the breeze is picking up. I
shouldhavewornlongsleeves.
“Yeah,haveyoubeentooneofthesebefore?”IaskZed,whoshakeshishead.
“No,thisisn’tmytypicalscene,”hesayswithalaughbeforeadding,“ButI’m
gladtobeheretonight.”
I smile at his compliment and right then someone walks up to the central
bandstand and gives us all a warm welcome on behalf of the school and the
band.Afteracoupleofminutesoframblingon,theyfinallycountdowntothe
lighting of the fire, and three, two, one . . . the fire ignites and swallows the
mound of wood fiercely. It’s actually quite beautiful being this close to the
flames,andIcantellI’llbewarmenoughafterall.
“Sohowlongareyouhere?”ZedasksDakota.
She frowns. “Only the weekend. I wish I could come back for the wedding
nextweekend.”
“Whatwedding?”Zedasks.
IlookatLandon,whoanswers,“Mymother’s.”
“Oh...”Hepausesandlooksdown,asifthinkingaboutsomething.
“What?”Iaskhim.
“Nothing. I’m just trying to remember who else said something about a
weddingnextweekend...Ohyeah—Hardin,Ithink.Hewasaskinguswhathe
shouldweartoawedding.”
Myheartstops.IhopeIdon’tshowitonmyface.SoHardindefinitelystill
hasn’t told any of his friends that his father is the chancellor, or that he’s
marryingLandon’smother.
“Bitofacoincidence,right?”heasks.
“No, they are—” Dakota begins, but I interrupt: “Quite a coincidence, but,
then,inatownthissize,thereareprobablyafeweveryweekend.”
Zednodsinagreement,andLandonwhisperssomethinginDakota’sear.
Hardinisactuallyconsideringgoingtothewedding?
Zedchuckles.“Ican’timagineHardinataweddinganyway.”
“Whynot?”MytoneisalittleharsherthanImeantittobe.
“I don’t know, because he’s Hardin. The only way to get him to go to a
wedding would be if he knew he could have sex with the bridesmaids. All of
them,”hesaysandrollshiseyes.
“IthoughtyouandHardinarefriends?”Isay.
“Weare. I’mnotsayinganythingbadabouthim—that’sjusthowHardinis.
Hehassexwithadifferentgirleveryweekend,sometimesmorethanone.”
Myearsarebuzzingandthefirefeelstoohotonmyskin.IstandupbeforeI
realizewhatIamdoing.
“Whereareyougoing?What’swrong?”Zedasks.
“Nothing,Ijust...Ineedsomeair.Somefreshair,”Imumble.Iknowhow
stupidthatsoundsbutIdon’tcare.“Berightback,Ijustneedasecond.”Imarch
awayquicklybeforeanyofthemcanfollowme.
Whatiswrongwithme?Zedissweetandheactuallylikesme,heenjoysmy
company, and yet all it takes is a mention of Hardin and I can’tstop thinking
abouthim.Itakeaquickstrollaroundthestandsandfewdeepbreathsbefore
walkingbackovertothem.
“Sorry,thefirewasjust...toohot,”Ilieandsitbackdown.
Zedhashisphoneoutandturnsthescreenawayfrommeasheslidesitback
intohispocket.Hetellsmeit’s fine andwemakesmalltalkwithLandonand
Dakotaforthenexthour.
“I’mgettingsortoftired,Ihadanearlyflight,”DakotafinallytellsLandon,
whonods.
“Yeah,I’mtired,too.We’regoingtogetgoing.”Landonstandsupandhelps
Dakotatoherfeet.
“Doyouwanttogo,too?”Zedasksme.
“No,I’mokay.Unlessyouwantto?”
Heshakeshishead.“I’mcool.”WesaygoodbyetoLandonandDakotaand
watchastheydisappearintothecrowd.
“So what’s the reason behind the bonfire?” I ask Zed, unsure that he really
knows.
“Ithinkit’sliketocelebratetheendofthefootballseason,”hetellsme.“Or
themiddleofit,orsomething...?”Ilookaroundandnoticeforthefirsttime
thatalotofpeoplearewearingjerseys.
“Oh.”IlookoveratZed.“Iseeitnow,”Isayandlaugh.
“Yeah,”hesaysandthensquints.“IsthatHardin?”
Isnapmyheadinthedirectionhe’slooking.Sureenough,Hardiniswalking
towarduswithashortbrunettewearingaskirt.
IscootclosertoZed.ThisisexactlywhyIdidn’tlistentoHardinontheporch
—he’salreadyfoundsomegirltobringherejusttospiteme.
“Hey,Zed,”thegirlsaysinahigh-pitchedvoice.
“Hey,Emma.”Zedhookshisarmaroundmyshoulder.Hardinglaresathim
buttakesaseatwithus.
IknowIambeingrudebynotintroducingmyselftothisgirl,butIcan’thelp
butdislikeheralready.
“How’sthebonfiresofar?”Hardinasks.
“Warm.Andalmostover,Ithink,”Zedreplies.
Thereistensionbetweenthetwoofthem.Icanfeelit.Idon’tknowwhythere
wouldbe—Hardinmadeitcleartohisfriendsthathedoesn’tgiveashitabout
me.
“Dotheyhavefoodhere?”thegirlsaysinherannoyingvoice.
“Yeah,theyhaveaconcessionstand,”Itellher.
“Hardin,comewithmetogetsomefood,”shedemands.Herollshiseyesbut
standsup.
“Bringmebackapretzel,yeah?”Zedyells,smiling,andHardinclencheshis
jaw.
Whatisupwiththem?
As soon as Hardin and Emma disappear I turn to Zed. “Hey, can we go? I
don’treallywanttohangoutwithHardin;wesortofhateeachother,incaseyou
forgot.”Itrytoforceoutaplayfullaugh,butitdoesn’thappen.
“Yeah,sure,sure,”hesays.Webothstandupandhereachesformyhand.We
holdhandsaswewalk,andIfindmyselflookingaroundforHardinandhoping
hewon’tsee.
“Doyouwanttogototheparty?”Zedasksaswereachtheparkinglot.
“No,Idon’treallywanttogothere,either.”ThatisthelastplaceIwanttogo.
“Okay,well,wecanjusthangoutanother...”hebegins.
“No,Istillwanttohangout.Ijustdon’twanttobehereoratthatfrathouse,”
Isayquickly.
Helookssurprisedashiseyesmeetmine.“Okay...well,wecangotomy
place? If you want; if not, we can go somewhere else? I actually don’t really
knowwhereelsetogointhistown.”HelaughsandIjoinhim.
“Yourplaceisfine.I’llfollowyouthere,”Itellhim.
Duringthedrive,Ican’thelpbutpictureHardin’sfacewhenhereturnstofind
usgone.Hebroughtagirltherewithhim,sohehasnorighttobeupset,butit
doesn’treallyeasethepanginmystomachtojustifyitlikethat.
Zed’s apartment is right off campus and is small but clean. He offers me a
drink,butIdeclinesinceIplanondrivingbacktomyroomtonight.
Iplopdownonthecouch,andhehandsmetheremotebeforegoingbackto
thekitchentomakehimselfadrink.“Youcanbeincontrol;Idon’tknowwhat
youliketowatch.”
“Doyoulivealone?”Iaskhimandhenods.Ifeelalittleawkwardashesits
nexttomeandputshisarmaroundmywaist,butIhidemynervousnesswitha
smile.Zed’sphonebuzzesinhispocketandhestandsuptoanswerit.Holdinga
fingeruptotellmehewillbeback,hewandersintohissmallkitchenarea.
“Weleft,” I hear him say. “So . . .” “Fair.” “Too bad.” The few snippets of
conversationthatIcatchmakenosensetome...exceptthe“weleft.”
IsthatHardinonthephone?IstandupandwalktowardthekitchenasZed
hangsup.
“Whowasthat?”Iask.
“No one important,” he assures me and leads me back to the couch. “I am
reallygladwearegettingtoknoweachother;you’redifferentfromtherestof
thegirlshere,”hesayssweetly.
“Me,too,”Itellhim.“DoyouknowEmma?”Ican’thelpbutask.
“Yeah,hergirlfriendisNate’scousin.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Yeah,theyhavebeentogetherawhile.Emma’sprettycool.”
SoHardinwasn’ttherewithher,notinthatwayatleast.Maybeheactually
cametheretotrytotalktomeagain,insteadoftryingtohurtmewithanother
girl.
Ilook over toZed justas he leans in tokiss me.His lips arecool from his
drinkandtastelikevodka.Hishandsarecarefulandsmoothagainstmyarms,
then my waist. Hardin’s heartbroken face from earlier pops into my mind, the
way he begged for one more chance and I didn’t believe him, the way he
watchedmedriveaway,theoutburstinclassaboutCatherineandHeathcliff,the
wayhealwaysshowsup whenIdon’twanthimto,thewayhenevertellshis
motherthathelovesher,thewayhesaidhelovedmeinfrontofeveryone,the
hurtfulwayhetookitback,thewayhebreaksthingswhenhe’sangry,theway
hecametohisfather’shousetonighteventhoughhehatesitthere,andtheway
heaskedhisfriendswhattoweartothewedding—itallmakesperfectsense,but
nosense,atthesametime.
Hardinlovesme.Inhisowndamagedway,hedoesloveme.Therealization
ofthishitsmelikeatruck.
“What?”Zedsaysandpullsawayfromourkiss.
“What?”Irepeathisword.
“YoujustsaidHardin.”
“No,Ididn’t,”Idefend.
“Yes,yes,youdid.”Hestandsupandstepsawayfromthecouch.
“Ihavetogo...Iamsorry,”Isayandgrabmypurseandrushoutofthedoor
beforehecansayanythingelse.
chaptersixty-six
ItakeasecondtothinkaboutwhatIamdoing.IleftZedtogofindHardin,butI
reallyneedtothinkaboutwhatwillhappennext.Hardinwilleithersayterrible
things to me, curse at me, and make me leave, or he will admit that he has
feelingsformeandthatallthesegameshehasbeenplayingarejusthiswayof
notbeingabletodealwithandexpresshisfeelingsinanormalway.Ifthefirst
scenariohappens,andImostlyexpectitto,IwillbeinnoworseastatethanI
aminnow.But,ifit’sthesecond,amIreadytoforgivehimforalltheterrible
thingshehassaidanddonetome?Ifwebothadmitthewaywefeelabouteach
other,willeverythingchange?Willhechange?Ishecapableofcaringformethe
wayIneedhimto,and,ifso,amIcapableofputtingupwithhismoodswings?
Theproblemis,Ican’tansweranyofthesequestionsonmyown,notasingle
one. I hate the way he clouds my thoughts and makes me feel unsure about
myself.Ihatenotknowingwhathewilldoorsay.
IpulluptothedamnedfraternityhousethatIhavespentwaytoomuchtime
in.Ihatethishouse.Ihatealotofthingsrightnow,andmyangertowardHardin
isalmosttoitsboilingpoint.Iparkatthecurbandrushupthestepsandintothe
crowdedhouse.IheadstraightfortheoldcouchHardinisusuallyperchedon,
but,notspottinghismopofhair,IduckbehindaheavysetguybeforeStephor
anyoneelsecanspotme.
Rushing up the stairs to his room, I bang my fist against the door,annoyed
thatonceagainhehasitlocked.
“Hardin!It’sme,openthedoor!”Iyelldesperatelyandcontinuetopound,but
there’snoanswer.Wherethehellishe?Idon’twanttocallhimtofindout,even
thoughthatisobviouslyeasier,butI’mangryandIfeellikeIneedtostayangry
soIcansaywhatImean—whatIneedtosay—andnotfeelbadaboutit.
IcallLandon toseeif Hardinisat his father’s,but heisn’t.Theonlyother
placethatIknowtolookisthebonfire,butIdoubthewouldstillbethere.Still,
Idon’thaveanyotheroptionsrightnow.
SoIdrivebacktothestadiumandparkmycar,repeatingtheangrywordsI
havesavedforHardinoverandovertomakesureIdon’tforgetanythingincase
heactuallyishere.Approachingthefield,Icanseethatalmosteveryonehasleft
alreadyandthefireisalmostout.Iwalkaroundandsquintinthedyinglightand
stareatcouplestoseeiftheyareHardinandEmma,withoutluck.
Just as I decide to stop looking, I finally do see Hardin leaning against the
fence by the goalpost. He is alone, and doesn’t seem to notice me walking
towardhimashetakesaseatonthegrass,wipinghismouth.Whenheremoves
hishand,itlooksred.Ishebleeding?
SuddenlyHardin’sheadsnapsupasifhecansensemypresence,and,yes,the
cornerofhismouthisbleedingandtheshadowofabruiseisalreadyformingon
hischeek.
“Whatthehell—”Isayandkneeldowninfrontofhim.“Whathappenedto
you?”Iask.
Helooksupatmeandhiseyesaresohaunted,myangerdissolveslikesugar
onmytongue.
“Whydoyoucare?Where’syourdate?”hegrowls.
Iclickmytonguegentlyandmovehishandawayfromhismouth,examining
his busted lip. He jerks away from me but I bite my tongue. “Tell me what
happened,”Idemand.
Hesighsandrunshishandoverhishair.Hisknucklesarebustedandbloody.
Thecutonhisindexfingerlooksdeepandverypainful.
“Didyougetinafight?”
“Whatgaveyouthatidea?”hesnaps.
“Withwho?Areyouokay?”
“Yeah,Iamfine,nowleavemealone.”
“Icameheretofindyou,”Itellhimandstandup,wipingthedeadgrassoff
myjeans.
“Okay.Andyoufoundme,sogo.”
“Youdon’thavetobe suchanasshole,”Isay.“Ithinkyoushouldgohome
andgetcleanedup.Youmightneedstitchesonthatknuckle.”
Hardindoesn’trespondbutstandsupandwalkspastme.Icameheretoyellat
himforbeingsuchanidiotandtellhimhowIfeel,andhe’smakingitveryhard
—Iknewhewould.
“Whereareyougoing?”Iask,followinghimlikealostpuppy.
“Home.Well,I’mgoingtocallEmmaandseeifshewillcomebackandpick
meup.”
“Sheleftyouhere?”Idon’tlikeheratall.
“No.Well,technically,butItoldherto.”
“Letmetakeyou,”Isayandgrabhisjacket.Heshrugsmeoff,andIwantto
slaphim.MyangerisreturningandIammorepissed-offthanbefore.Thetables
haveturned;our...whateverthisishasshifted.Iamusuallytheonerunning
fromhim.
“Stop walking away from me!” I yell and he turns around, eyes blazing. “I
saidletmetakeyouhome!”Iscream.
Healmostsmilesbutfrownsinsteadandsighs.“Fine.Where’syourcar?”
HARDIN’S SCENT IMMEDIATELY fills the car, only now there is a hint of
metalmixedin;it’sstillmyfavoritesmellintheentireworld.Iturntheheaton
andrubmyarmstowarmup.
“Whydidyoucomehere?”heasksasIpulloutoftheparkinglot.
“Tofindyou.”ItrytoremembereverythingIhadplannedtosay,butmymind
isblankandallIcanthinkaboutiskissinghisbustedmouth.
“Forwhatreason?”heasksquietly.
“To talk to you, we have so much to talk about.” I feel like crying and
laughingatthesametimeandIhavenoideawhy.
“Ithoughtyousaidwedidn’thaveanythingtotalkabout,”hesaysandturns
tolookoutthewindowwithacoolnessIsuddenlyfindbeyondirritating.
“Do you love me?” The words come out rushed and strangled. I had not
plannedonsayingthem.
Hisheadsnapstothesidetolookatme.“What?”Histoneisoneofshock.
“Doyou?”Irepeat,worryingthatmyheartmightpoprightoutofmychest.
He focuses forward. “You are not seriously asking me this while we are
drivingdownthestreet.”
“WhatdoesitmatterwhereorwhenIamasking,justtellme,”Ipractically
beg.
“I...Idon’tknow...No,Idon’t.”Helooksaround,almostlikeheneedsto
escape.“Andyoucan’tjustasksomeoneiftheyloveyouwhentheyaretrapped
inacarwithyou—whatthehelliswrongwithyou?”hesaysloudly.
Ouch.“Okay,”isallIcanmanagetosay.
“Whydoyouevenwanttoknow?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter.” I’m confusednow,soconfused,andmy plan to talk out
our problems has crashed and burned in front of me, along with any dignity I
stillheld.
“Tellmewhyyouaskedmethat,now,”hedemands.
“Don’ttellmewhattodo!”Ishoutback.
Ipulluptohishouseandhelooksoutatthecrowdedlawn.“Takemetomy
dad’s,”hesays.
“What?Iamnotadamntaxi.”
“Justtakemethere,Iwillgetmycarinthemorning.”
If his car is here, why doesn’t he just drive himself? I don’t want our
conversation to end yet, though, so I roll my eyes, and head off toward his
father’shouse.
“Ithoughtyouhateditthere,”Isay.
“Ido.ButI don’tfeellikebeingarounda lot ofpeoplerightnow,” hesays
quietly.Then,louder,hegoeson:“Areyougoingtotellmewhyyouaskedthat?
DoesthishavesomethingtodowithZed?Didhesaysomethingtoyou?”
Heseemsreally nervous. Whydoeshe always askifZedsaid something to
me?
“No...IthasnothingtodowithZed.Ijustwantedtoknow.”Itdoesn’treally
havetodowithZed;ithastodowiththefactthatIlovehimandthoughtfora
second,hemightloveme,too.ThelongerIamaroundhim,themoreridiculous
thatpossibilityseems.
“WheredidyouandZedgowhenyouleftthebonfire?”heasksasIpullinto
hisfather’sdriveway.
“Backtohisapartment,”Isay.
Hardin’s body tenses and his bloody fists clench, tearing the skin on his
knucklesfurther.“Didyousleepwithhim?”heasksandmymouthfallsopen.
“What? Why the hell would you assume that? You should know me better
thanthat bynow! Andwho doyou thinkyou areto even ask such a personal
question?Youmadeitclearthatyoudon’tcareaboutme so, what if I did?”I
shout.
“Soyoudidn’t?”heasksagain,hiseyeslikestone.
“God, Hardin! No! He kissed me, but I wouldn’t have sex with someone I
barelyknow!”
Heleansoverandturnsmycaroff,clenchinghisbloodyhandoverthekeys
andpullingthemoutoftheignition.
“Youkissedhimback?”Hiseyesarehoodedasheseemstolookstraightpast
me.
“Yeah...well,Idon’tknow,IthinkIdid.”Idon’trememberanythingexcept
Hardin’sfaceinmymind.
“Howdoyounotknow?Haveyoubeendrinking?”Hisvoiceisloudernow.
“No,Ijust...”
“Youwhat!”heshoutsandturnshisbodytofaceme.Ican’treadtheenergy
betweenus,andforamomentIsitthere,tryingtogetahandleonit.
“I-Ijustkeptthinkingofyou!”Ifinallyadmit.
Hisstonefeaturessoftentremendouslyandhebringshiseyestomine.“Let’s
goinside,”hesaysandopensthepassengerdoor.
chaptersixty-seven
Karen and Ken are sitting on the couch in the living room and both look up
whenwewalkin.
“Hardin!Whathappened?”hisfatherasks,panicked.Hejumpsupandcomes
overtous,butHardinbrusheshimoff.
“I’mfine,”Hardingrumbles.
“Whathappenedtohim?”Kenturnstome.
“Hegotinafight,buthehasn’ttoldmewithwhoorwhy.”
“I am standing right here—and I just said I am fucking fine,” Hardin says
angrily.
“Don’ttalktoyourfatherlikethat!”Iscoldhimandhiseyeswiden.Instead
ofscreamingatme,hetakesmywristinhisbustedhandandpullsmeoutofthe
room. Ken and Karen discuss Hardin’s bloody appearance as he drags me
upstairs,andIhearhisdadopenlywonderwhyHardinkeepscomingherewhen
heneverusedtobefore.
Oncewereachhisroom,heturnsmearound,pinningbothofmywriststothe
wallandstepsupclose,leavingonlyafewinchesbetweenus.
“Don’teverdothatagain,”hesaysthroughhisteeth.
“Dowhat?Letgoofme,rightnow,”Itellhim.
Herollshiseyesbutdoesletmegoandwalksovertohisbed.Istaycloseto
thedoor.
“Don’ttellmehowtotalktomyfather.Worryaboutyourownrelationship
withyourownfatherbeforetryingtomeddlewithmine.”
Assoonasthewordscomeoutofhismouth,Hardinregisterswhathesays,
andheimmediatelylooksapologetic.“I’msorry...Ididn’tmeanitlikethat...
Itjustcameout.”Hetakesasteptowardmewithoutstretchedarms,butItakea
stepbackwardintothedoorway.
“Yeah—italwaysjust‘comesout,’doesn’tit?”Ican’thelpthetearspricking
myeyes.Bringingmyfatherintothisisjustwaytoomuch,evenforHardin.
“Tess,I...”hebeginsbutstopshimselfwhenIholduponehand.
WhatamIdoinghere?WhydoIkeepthinkinghewillstoptheendlessstring
ofinsultslongenoughtohaveanactualconversationwithme?BecauseIaman
idiot,that’swhy.
“It’s fine, really. That’s who you are; that’s what you do. You find people’s
weaknessandyouexploitit.Youuseittoyouradvantage.Howlonghaveyou
beenwaitingtosay something about myfather?You’veprobablybeenwaiting
foranopeningsinceyoumetme!”Ishout.
“Damn it! No I haven’t! I wasn’t thinking when I said that! You are not
innocenthere—youprovokemeonpurpose!”heyells,evenlouderthanIdid.
“Provokeyou?Iprovokeyou!Please,doenlightenme!”Iknoweveryonein
thehousecanhear.But,foronce,Idon’tcare.
“Youalwayspushmybuttons!Youconstantlyfightwithme!Yougoondates
withZed—Imean, fuck!You think Ilike being thisway? Do youthink I like
youhavingthiscontroloverme?Ihatethewayyougetundermyskin.Iloathe
the way I can’t seem to stop thinking about you! I hate you . . . I really do!
You’resuchapretentiouslittle...”Hestopsandlooksatme.Iforcemyselfto
lookback at him,puttingon thecharade that hedidn’tjusttearme apart with
everysyllable.
“ThisiswhatIamtalkingabout!”Herunshishandsoverhishairashepaces
backandforthacrosstheroom.“You...youmakemecrazy,literallyfucking
mental!AndthenyouhavethenervetoaskifIloveyou?Whywouldyoueven
ask that? Because I said that one time, by accident? I told you already that I
didn’t mean it, so why would you ask again? You like rejection—don’t you?
That’swhyyoukeepcomingaroundme,isn’tit?”
AllIwanttodoisrun,runoutofthisroomandnever,everlookback.Ineed
torun,Ineedtoflee.
Itrytostopit,buthehasmeinsucharage,IyellthethingIknowwillgetto
him,breakhiscontrol:“No,IkeepcomingaroundbecauseIloveyou!”
Icovermymouthimmediately,wishingIcouldpushthewordsbackin.He
couldn’t possibly hurt me worse than he has, and I don’t want to be left
wondering years from now what he would have said if I told him. I am okay
withhimnotlovingme.Igotmyselfintothisknowinghowhewasallalong.
Helooksastonished.“Youwhat?”Heblinksrapidlyasiftryingtoprocessthe
words.
“Go on, tell me how much you hate me again. Go ahead and tell me how
stupidIamforlovingsomeonewhocan’tstandme,”Isay,myvoicecomingout
foreignandalmostinawhine.Iwipemyeyesandlookathimagain,feelingas
ifI’vebeengravelydefeatedandneedtoleavethescenetobandagemywounds.
“I’llbegoingnow.”
AsIgototurn,hetakesonelongstridetoclosethegapbetweenus.Irefuse
tolookathimasheputshishandonmyshoulder.“Damnit,don’tgo,”hesays,
hisvoicefullofemotion.
Whichemotionisthequestion.
“Youloveme?”hewhispersandputshisbustedhandundermychintotiltmy
headtohim.Idartmyeyesawayfromhisandnodslowly,waitingforhimto
laughinmyface.
“Why?”Hisbreathcomesinahotburstagainstmyface.
Ifinallybringmyeyestohisandhelooks...afraid?“What?”Iasksoftly.
“Whydo you love. . .how couldyou possibly loveme?” His voicecracks
andhestaresatme,andIfeellikethewordsIsaynextwilldeterminemyfate
morethananythingI’veeverdonebefore.
“HowcouldyounotknowthatIloveyou?”Iaskinsteadofansweringhim.
Hedoesn’tthinkIcouldlovehim?IhavenoexplanationexceptthatIjustdo.
Hedrivesmecrazy,makesmeangrierthanIhaveeverbeen,butsomehowIfell
forhim,hard.
“Youtoldmeyoudidn’t.AndyouwentoutwithZed.Youalwaysleaveme;
youleft me onthe porch earlierwhen I beggedyou for anotherchance. Itold
youIlovedyou,andyourejectedme.Doyouknowhowhardthatwasforme?”
hesays.
Imustbeimaginingthetearswellinginthecornersofhiseyes,thoughIam
tooawareofhiscallusedfingersundermychin.
“YoutookitbackbeforeIcouldevenprocesswhatyousaid.You’vedonea
lotofthingstohurtme,Hardin,”Itellhimandhenods.
“Iknow...I’msorry.Letmemakeituptoyou?IknowIdon’tdeserveyou.
Idon’thavetherighttoevenbeaskingthis...butplease,justonechance.Iam
notpromisingnot tofightwith you, orget mad atyou, but Iam promising to
givemyselftoyou,completely.Please,justletmetrytobewhatyouneed.”He
soundssounsureofhimself,itturnsmyinsidestoliquid.
“Iwanttothinkthiscanwork,butIjustdon’tknowhowitcould,somuch
damagehasalreadybeendone.”
Butmyeyesbetraymeasthetearsfall.Hardinbringshisfingersupfrommy
chinandcapturesthem,evenasasingletearescapesdownhisowncheek.
“DoyourememberwhenyouaskedmewhoIlovethemostintheworld?”he
asks,hislipsinchesfrommine.
I nod, though it seems so long ago, and I didn’t think he was even paying
attention.
“It’syou.You’rethepersonthatIlovemostintheworld.”
Hiswordssurprisemeanddissolvetheacheandtheangerinmychest.
BeforeIwillletmyselfbelievehimandturnmetoputtyinhisarms,Iask,
“Thisisn’tpartofyoursickgame,isit?”
“No,Tessa.I’mdonewiththegames.Ijustwantyou.Iwanttobewithyou,
inarealrelationship.You’llhavetoteachmewhatinthehellthatevenmeans,
ofcourse.”HelaughsnervouslyandIjoinhimwithearnestlaughterofmyown.
“Ihavemissedyourlaugh.Ihaven’thearditenough.Iwanttobetheoneto
makeyoulaugh,notcry.IknowIamalottohandle—”
Icuthimoffbypressingmylipsagainsthis.HiskissesarerushedandIcan
tastebloodfromhiscut.Mykneeswanttobucklefromtheelectricityshooting
throughme,itseemssolongagothatIlastfelthismouthonmine.Ilovethis
damaged,self-loathingassholesomuchthatI’mafraiditwillcrushme.Helifts
meupandIwrapmythighsaroundhim,tanglingmyfingersintohishair.He
moans into my mouth and I gasp, pulling harder. My tongue runs over his
bottomlipandwhenhewinces,Ipullaway.
“Whodidyougetinafightwith?”Iaskandhelaughs.
“You’reaskingthatnow?”
“Yeah,Iwanttoknow.”Ismile.
“Youalwayshavesomanyquestions.Can’tIanswerthemlater?”Hepouts.
“No,tellme.”
“Onlyifyou’llstay.”Heholdsmeagainsthimtighter.“Please?”hebegs.
“Okay,”Isayandkisshimagain,completelyforgettingaboutmyquestion.
chaptersixty-eight
Eventually we stop kissing and I go to sit at the foot of the bed, and Hardin
followsme,sittingupbytheheadboard.
“Okay, now tell me who you fought with; was it Zed?” I ask, afraid of his
answer.
“No.Itwasjustafewrandomguys.”
I’mrelieveditwasn’tZed,butthenIregisterwhatheactuallysaid.“Wait,a
few?Howmany?”
“Three...orfour.Iamnotreallysure.”Helaughs.
“It’snotfunny—whywereyoufighting,anyway?”
“I don’t know . . .” He shrugs. “I was pissed that you left with Zed and it
seemedlikeagoodideaatthetime.”
“Well,it’snotagoodidea,andnowlookhowbustedupyouare.”Ifrownand
hecockshisheadtothesidewithapuzzledexpression.“What?”
“Nothing...comehere,”hesaysandholdshisarmsouttome.Imoveacross
thebedandleanbackonhimbetweenhislegs.
“IamsorryforthewayItreated...well,treatyou,”hesaysquietlyintomy
ear.
A shiver runs through my body from his breath in my ear and his unforced
apology. “It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But I am going to give you one more
chance.”
Ihopehedoesn’tmakemeregretit.Idon’tthinkIcanhandleanymorehot
andcoldfromhim.
“Thankyou,IknowIdon’tdeserveit.ButIamselfishenoughtotakeit,”he
says,hismouthagainstmyhair.Hewrapshisarmsaroundme,andsittingwith
himlikethisfeelsforeignandnostalgicatthesametime.
When I stay silent he turns my shoulders slightly to have me look at him.
“What’swrong?”heasks.
“Nothing.I’mjustafraidthatyou’llchangeyourmindagain,”Isay.Iwantto
diveintothisheadfirstbutamdesperatelyafraidIwillhitthebottom.
“Iwon’t.Ihaveneverchangedmymind.I’vejustfoughtmyfeelingsforyou.
Iknowyoucan’ttrustmywordsalone,butIwanttoearnyourtrust.Iwon’thurt
youagain,”hepromisesandleanshisforeheadagainstmine.
“Pleasedon’t,”Ibeg.Idon’tcarehowpatheticIsound.
“Iloveyou,Tessa,”hesaysandmyheartleapsoutofmychest.Thewords
sound perfect coming off his lips and I would do anything to be able to hear
themagain.
“I love you, Hardin.” This is the first time we have both openly said the
words,andIfightdownmyurgetopanicoverthepossibilitythathecouldtake
thembackagain.Evenifhedoes,Iwillalwayshavethememoryofhowthey
sounded,howtheymademefeel.
“Sayitagain,”hewhispersandturnsmearoundtofacehim.InhiseyesIsee
morevulnerabilitythanIhadthoughtpossibleforhim.Imovetomykneesand
take his face in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over the light stubble on his
perfectface.Icantellbyhisexpressionthatheneedsmetosayit,overandover
again.IwillsayitasmanytimesasIhavetountilhebelievesthatheisworthy
ofsomeonelovinghim.
“I love you,” I repeat and cover his lips with my own. He hmms in
appreciation as his tongue grazes gently over mine. Kissing Hardin feels new
and different each time, and he is like a drug that I can’t get enough of. His
handspressagainstthesmallofmyback,bringingourcheststogether.Mymind
istellingmetotakeitslow,tokisshimgentlyandtosavoreachsecondofthis
gentlecalmbetweenus.Butmybodyistellingmetograbafistfulofhishair
and pull his shirt over his head. His lips travel down my jaw and attach
themselvestomyneck.
Thatdoesit.Ican’tcontrolmyselfanymore.Thisisus,allangerandpassion
andnowlove.Aninvoluntarymoanescapesmylipsandhegroansagainstmy
neck,grabbingmywaistandflippingusoversoheishoveringoverme.
“I...have...missedyou...somuch,”hesaysinbetweensuckingtheskin
onmyneck.Ican’tkeepmyeyesopen;itfeelstoogood.Heunzipsmyjacket
and looks down at me with hungry eyes. He doesn’t ask for my permission
beforetuggingatthefabric,pullingmytanktopupandovermyhead,andhe
sucksinasharpbreathasIarchmybacksohecanunclaspmybra.
“Ihavemissedyourbody...thewayyoufitperfectlyinmyhand,”hegrowls
ashepalmsmybreasts.Imoanagainandhepresseshislowerbodyagainstmine
so I can feel his arousal pressed against my lower stomach. Our breathing is
rapid and uncontrolled, and I have never wanted him more. It seems the
admissionofourfeelingshasn’tlessenedtheoverwhelmingpassionbetweenus.
Iamglad.Hishandglidesdownovermybarestomachandpopsopenthebutton
on my jeans. As his fingers slide into my panties he gasps into my mouth. “I
havemissedhowwetyoualwaysareforme.”
His words do wicked things to me, and I lift my hips again, begging for
contact.
“Whatdoyouwant,Tessa?”Hebreathesheavilyintothecrookofmyneck.
“You,”IanswerbeforemymindcanprocesswhatIjustsaid.ButIknowit’s
true: I want Hardin in the most primal, deep way possible. His finger slides
easilyintomeandmyheadfallsbackagainstthepillowasheslipsinandout.
“Ilovetowatchyou,toseehowgoodImakeyoufeel,”hesaysandImoanin
response.MyhandsfisthisT-shirtathisback.Hehastoomanyclotheson,butI
can’tformacoherentsentencetodemandtheirremoval.Howdowegofrom“I
hateyou”to“Iloveyou”tothis?Idon’tcarefortheanswer,though—allIcare
aboutisthewayheismakingmefeel,thewayhealwaysmakesmefeel.His
bodyslidesdownmineandheremoveshishandfrommypants.Iwhinefrom
thelossofcontactandhesmiles.
As he pulls down my jeans and panties, I gesture at his fully clothed body.
“Undress,”Isay,andhechuckles.
“Yes,ma’am.”Hesmirksandpullshisshirtoverhishead,revealinghisinked
skin.I want torun my tonguealong every singleline on everysingle tattoo. I
love the way the infinity symbol abovehis wrist isso out of place among the
flamesinkedbelowit.
“Whydidyouget this?” Iask,runningthe pad ofmyindexfinger over the
mark.
“What?”He’sdistracted,hiseyesandhandsfocusedonmybreasts.
“This tattoo. It’s so different than the rest. So much . . . softer, and sort of
feminine?”
His fingers roam across both breasts and he leans in, pressing his arousal
against my leg. “Feminine, huh?” He smiles and traces his lips across mine
beforepullingawayandcockingabrow.
I no longer have interestin his tattoo or why he got it. I just want to touch
him,tofeelhismouthonmine.
Beforeeitherofuscanruinthemomentwithmorewords,Igrabholdofhis
hairandpullhisfacetomine.Ikisshimbrieflyonhislipsbeforemovingtohis
neck.FrommyexperienceinpleasuringHardin,Iknowthatthespotonhisneck
justabovehiscollarbonedriveshimcrazy.Iplantwetandwarmkissesagainst
there,feelinghisbodyjerkandtenseasIliftmyhipstohimagain.Thefeeling
of his bare body on top of mine is exquisite. All of our bare skin is already
startingtoshinealittlewithperspiration.Ifonesmallmovementismade,this
willbetakentoanotherlevel.AlevelthatIhadneverbeenreadytoreachuntil
now.TheflexingofHardin’shardmusclesasheslowlyrubshimselfagainstme,
moaning,istoomuchformetoresist.
“Hardin...”Imoanasheglidesagainstmeagain.
“Yes,baby?”Hestopsmoving.Ibringmyheelstohisthighsandforcehimto
moveagain.Hiseyesflutterclosed.“Fuck,”hemoans.
“Iwantto...”Isay.
“Youwanttowhat?”Hisbreathishotandheavyagainstmyclammyskin.
“I want to . . . you know . . .” I say, finding myself suddenly embarrassed
despiteourintimateposition.
“Oh,”hesays.Hestopsmovingagainandstaresintomyeyes.Heseemstobe
wageringsomeinternalbattlewithhimself.“I...Idon’tknowifthat’sagood
idea...”
What?“Why?”Ipushhimoffme.Herewegoagain.
“No...no,baby.Ijustmeanfortonight.”Hewrapshisarmsaroundmeand
putsmeonmyside,lyingnexttome.Ican’tlookathim,I’mtoohumiliated.
“Listen,lookatme,”hesays,tiltingmychin.“Iwantto,fuckdoIwantto.
Morethananything,trustme.IhavewantedtofeelyouaroundmesinceImet
you,butI...Ijustthinkaftereverythingtodayand...Ijustwantyoutobe
ready.I mean allthewayready, becauseoncewedo this, it’s done.Youcan’t
takeitback.”
MyhumiliationeasesandIlookathim.Iknowheisright,IknowIneedto
thinkaboutthismore,butIhaveahardtimebelievingthatmyanswerwillbe
anydifferenttomorrow.IshouldthinkaboutitwhenI’mnotundertheinfluence
of his naked body grinding against mine. He’s worse than alcohol running
throughmyveins.
“Don’tbe upsetwith me,please, justthink aboutit fora littlewhile, and if
you’resurethat’s whatyouwanttodo,Iwillgladlyfuckyou.Overandover,
whenandwhereyouwant.Iwantto—”
“Okay!Okay!”Ibringmyhanduptocoverhismouth.Helaughsagainstmy
palmandshrugshisshouldersasiftosay,“Justsaying.”
WhenIremovemyhandfromhismouth,heplayfullybitesmypalmandpulls
metohim.“IguessIshouldputsomeclothesonsoyouaren’tsotempted,”he
teasesandIblush.
I can’t decide which aspect of this is more surprising: the fact that I just
suggestedwehavesex,orthefactthatheactuallyhasenoughrespectformeto
turnmedown.
“Butfirst,letmemakeyoufeelgood,”hemuttersandflipsmeontomyback
in one swift motion. His mouth ducks down between my legs, and within
minutesmylegsareshakingandI’mcoveringmymouthwithmyhandtokeep
fromscreaminghisnameforeveryonetohear.
chaptersixty-nine
IwakeuptoHardinsnoringlightly,hislipspressedtomyear.Mybackistight
againsthischestandhislegsarehookedaroundmine.Memoriesfromlastnight
bringasmiletomylips,beforetheeuphoricfeelingisreplacedbypanic.
Willhefeelthesameinthelightofday?Orwillhetortureandtauntmefor
offering myself to him? I roll over slowly to face him, to examine his perfect
featureswhilehispermanentfrownissmoothedbysleep.Ireachoutandrunmy
indexfingeroverhiseyebrowring,thendowntothebruiseonhischeek.Hislip
looksbetter,asdohisknuckles,sincehefinallyagreedtoletmehelphimwash
themofflastnight.
His eyes snap open as my finger greedily traces his lips. “What are you
doing?”heasks.Ican’tdecipherhistone,whichmakesmeuneasy.
“Sorry...Iwasjust...”Idon’tknowwhattosay.Idon’tknowwhattypeof
moodhewillbeinafterwefallasleepineachother’sarms.
“Don’tstop,”hewhispersandcloseshiseyesagain.Halfoftheweightonmy
chest disappears and I smile before tracing over the shape of his plump lips
again,carefultoavoidhisinjury.
“Whatareyourplansfortoday?”heasksafewminuteslater,reopeninghis
eyes.
“IactuallyhaveplanswithKarentoworkonhergreenhouseoutback,”Itell
himandhesitsup.
“Really?”Hemustbemad.Iknowhedoesn’tlikeKaren,eventhoughsheis
oneofthesweetestpeopleIhaveevermet.
“Yeah,”Imumble.
“Well,IguessIdon’thavetoworryaboutmyfamilylikingyou.Ithinkthey
probablylikeyoubetterthantheydome.”Hechucklesandrunsthepadofhis
thumb across my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. “The problem with
that is, if I keep hanging out here my dad may start to believe I actually like
him,”hesays,histonelightbuthiseyesdark.
“MaybeyouandyourdadcouldhangoutorsomethingwhileKarenandIare
outside?”Isuggest.
“No,definitelynot,”hegrowls.“I’llgobacktomyhouse,myrealhouse,and
waitforyoutobedone.”
“Iwantedyoutostayhere,though;itmaytakeawhile.Hergreenhouseisin
prettybadshape,”Isay.
Heseemstobeatalossforwords,whichmakesmyheartwarmatthethought
that he doesn’t want to be away from me for very long. “I . . . I don’t know,
Tessa. My father probably doesn’t want to hang out with me anyway,” he
mumbles.
“Of course he does. When is the last time you two were even in the same
roomalonetogether?”
Heshrugs.“Idon’tknow...years.Idon’tknowifthisisagoodidea,”he
says,runninghishandsoverhishead.
“If you get uncomfortable, you can always join Karen and me outside,” I
assurehim.Frankly,I’mastonishedthatheisconsideringspendingtimewithhis
father.
“Fine...butIamonlydoingthisbecausethethoughtofleavingyou,even
foralittlewhile...”Hestops.Iknowheisn’tgoodatexpressinghowhefeels,
soIstayquiet,givinghimtimetocollecthimself.“Well,let’sjustsayit’sworse
thanhangingoutwithmyprickofafather.”
Ismile,despitetheharshwordsagainsthisdad.ThefatherthatHardinknows
fromhischildhoodisnotthesamemanthatisdownstairs,andIhopeHardincan
come around to see that. After I climb out of bed, I remember that I have no
clotheswithme,notoothbrush,nothing.
“Ineedtogobymyroomandgrabsomethings,”Itellhimandhetenses.
“Why?”
“BecauseIdon’thaveanyclothes,andIneedtobrushmyteeth,”Isay.When
I look at him he has a small smile on his face but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“What’swrong?”Iask,afraidoftheanswer.
“Nothing...Howlongwillyoubegone?”
“Well, I was assuming you would come with me?” As the words leave my
mouth,hevisiblyrelaxes.Whatiswithhim?
“Oh.”
“Areyougoingtotellmewhyyouarebeingweird?”Iaskwithmyhandson
myhips.
“I’mnot...Ijustthoughtyouweretryingtoleave.Leaveme.”Hisvoiceis
sosmallandunlikehimthatIgettheurgetowalkoverandcradlehim.Instead,I
gesture for him to come to me and he nods before getting up and standing in
frontofme.
“I’mnotgoinganywhere.Ijustneedsomeclothes,”Itellhimagain.
“I know . . . it’s just going to take a little getting used to. I’m used to you
runningawayfromme,notleavingandcomingback.”
“Well,I’musedtoyoupushingmeawayfromyou,sowebothjusthavesome
adjustingtodo.”Ismileandlaymyheadonhischest.Ifeeloddlycomfortedby
hisworry.Ihadbeenterrifiedthathewouldchangehismindthismorningandit
feelsgoodtoknowhewasjustasafraid.
“Yeah,Iguesswedo.Iloveyou,”hesays,andithitsmejustashardasitdid
thefirsttime,andthetwentieth,lastnight.
“AndIloveyou,too,”Itellhimandhefrowns.
“Don’tsaytoo,”hesays.
“What?Why?”Mydoubtisoncall,waitingforhimtodenyme,yethoping
thathewon’t.
“Idon’tknow...itjustmakesmefeellikeyouarejustagreeingwithme.”
Helooksdown.IrememberthepromiseImadetomyselflastnightthatIwould
dowhateverIcantohelphimconquerhisselfdoubt.
“I love you,” I say and he looks up at me. His eyes soften and he gently
presseshislipsagainstmine.
“Thankyou,”hesayswhenhepullsaway.
I roll my eyes at how flawless he looks in a plain white T-shirt and black
jeans. He never wears anything except plain white or black T-shirts and black
jeanseverysingleday,buthelooksperfect,everysingleday.Hedoesn’tneedto
follow whatever trend is hot; his simple style suits him so well. I put on my
clothesfromlastnightandhegrabsmypurseformebeforeweheaddownstairs.
WefindKarenandKeninthelivingroom.“Imadesomebreakfast,”Karen
sayscheerfully.
I feel slightly uncomfortable with Karen and Ken knowing I stayed with
Hardin,again.Iknowtheyseemtobeperfectlyfinewithit,andweareadults,
butthatdoesn’tstopmycheeksfromblushing.
“Thankyou.”Ismileandshegivesmeacuriouslook;IknowIwillgetsome
questions when we are in the greenhouse. I walk into the kitchen and Hardin
follows.Webothfillourplateswithfoodandsitatthetable.
“AreLandonandDakotahere?”IaskKarenwhenshecomesin.Dakotawill
probably be confused seeing me with Hardin again after being with Zed last
night,butIshakeoffthenegativethoughts.
“No,theywenttoSeattleforthedaytodosomesightseeing.Wereyoustill
wantingtoworkonthegreenhousetoday?”
“Yes,ofcourse.Ijusthavetoruntomyroomandchangemyclothes,”Itell
her.
“Excellent!I’llhaveKenbringthebagsofsoiloutfromtheshedwhileyou’re
gone.”
“Ifyouwait until wegetback,Hardin can helphim?”I half-ask, half-offer,
lookingtoHardin.
“Oh, you will be around today as well?” she asks, her smile growing. How
canhenotseethatpeoplecareabouthim?
“Uh...yeah.Iwasgoingtojusthangoutheretoday...Iguess.Ifthat’scool
withy-you?”hestutters.
“Ofcourse!Ken!Didyouhearthat,Hardinisgoingtobehereallday!”Her
excitementmakesmesmileandHardinrollhiseyes.
“Benice,”IwhisperinhisearasheplastersthefakestsmileIhaveeverseen
acrosshisface.ThenIgiggleandkickhisfootwithmine.
chapterseventy
Iremovemyclothesandtakeaquickshower,eventhoughI’mgoingtogetdirty
gardening with Karen. Hardin waits patiently, fiddling through my underwear
drawertokeephimselfbusy.WhenI’mdone,hetellsmetopackenoughclothes
tospend anothernight with him,which makesme smile. Iwould spendevery
nightwithhimifIcould.
Aswedriveback,Iaskhim,“Doyouwanttogetyourcarandtakeittoyour
dad’s?”
“No,I’mokay.Aslongasyoustopswervingallovertheroad.”
“Excuseme?Iamanexcellentdriver,”Isaydefensively.
Hesnortsbutkeepshismouthshut.“Sowhatmadeyoudecidetogetacar,
anyway?”
“Well, I got the internship, and I didn’t want to keep taking the bus or
dependingonotherpeopletotakemeplaces.”
Helooksoutthewindow.“Oh...didyougoalone?”
“Yeah...why?”
“Justwondering,”helies.
“Iwasalone;thatwasabaddayforme,”Isayandheflinches.
“HowmanytimesdidyouandZedhangout?”heasks.
Whyishebringingthisupnow?“Twice:wewenttodinnerandamovie,then
thebonfire.Itwasn’tanythingforyoutoworryabout.”
“Heonlykissedyouonce?”
Ugh.“Yes,onlyonce.Well,besidesthetimethat...yousaw.Nowcanwe
moveonfromthis?Youdon’tseemeaskingaboutMolly,doyou?”Isnap.
“Okay...okay.Let’snotfight.Thisisthelongestwehaveevergottenalong,
so let’s not ruin it,” he says and reaches for my hand. His thumb rubs small
circlesonmyskin.
“Okay,”Isay,stillslightlyannoyed.TheimageofMollyonhislapmakesmy
visionblur.
“Aww,comeon,Tess.Don’tpout.”Helaughsandpokesmyside.
Ican’thelpbutletoutagiggle.“Don’tdistractme!I’mdriving!”
“Thisisprobablytheonlytimeyou’llevertellmenottotouchyou.”
“Notlikely—don’tbesofullofyourself.”
Ourlaughterblendstogetherandit’salovelysound.Hebringshishandtomy
thighandrubshislongfingersupanddown.
“Yousure?”hisraspyvoicewhispersandmyskintingles.Mybodyresponds
tohimsoquickly,mypulsedrummingheavily.Igulpandnod,causinghimto
sighandpullhishandaway.“Iknowthat’snottrue...butI’drathernothave
youdrivingofftheroad,soI’lljusthavetofingeryoulater.”
Iswatathim,blushing.“Hardin!”
“Sorry,baby.”Hesmiles,raisinghishandsinmockinnocenceandlookingout
the window. I love when he calls me baby; no one has called me that before.
NoahandIhadalwaysthoughtthattheridiculouspetnamespeoplecalledeach
otherweretoojuvenileforus,butwhenHardincallsmesomething,myblood
singsinmyveins.
Whenwegetbacktohisfather’shouse,KenandKarenareinthebackyard
waitingforus.Ken looks outofhiselementin jeans andaWCUT-shirt.I’ve
neverseenhimdressedsocasually,andinfacthelooksalittlelikeHardinthis
way. They greet us with a smile that Hardin tries to return, but he looks
uncomfortableasheshiftsonhisheelsandburieshishandsinhispockets.
“Readywhenyouare,”KensaystoHardin.Helooksjustasuncomfortableas
Hardin,thoughhe’smorenervous,whereasHardinseemsapprehensive.
HardinlooksatmeandIgivehimanencouragingnod,surprisedthatIhave
suddenly become someone he looks at for reassurance. It seems that our
dynamic has changed dramatically, making me happy in a way I hadn’t
expected.
“Wewillbeinthegreenhouse,sojustbringthesoilinthere,”Karensaysand
givesKen asmall kisson thecheek. Hardinlooks awayfrom them,and fora
secondIthinkhemaygivemeakiss,too,buthedoesn’t.IfollowKarentothe
greenhouseandwhenwewalkinsideIgasp.It’shuge,biggerthanitlooksfrom
outside, and she wasn’t joking when she said it needs a lot of work. It is
practicallyempty.
Dramatically,sheputsherhandsonherhipswithchipperglee.“Itisquitethe
project,butIthinkwecandoit.”
“Ithinkso,too,”Isay.
HardinandKencomein,carryingtwobagsofsoileach.Theyarebothsilent
astheydropthemwhereKarendirectsbeforewalkingbackout.Twentybagsof
soilandhundredsofseedsanddozensofflowersandvegetableplantslater,we
haveaprettygoodstart.
BEFORE I REALIZE IT, the sunlight has started to fade and I haven’t seen
Hardininafewhours.IhopeheandKenarebothstillalive.
“Ithinkwe’vedoneenoughfortoday,”Karensaysandwipesherface.Weare
bothcoveredindirt.
“Yeah,IbettercheckonHardin,”Itellherandshelaughs.
“It means a lot to us, Ken especially, that Hardin has been coming around
more,andIknowwehaveyoutothankforthat.Itakeitthatyoutwoworked
outyourdifferences?”
“Sort of . . . I guess we did.” I let out a little laugh. “We are still very
different.”Ifonlysheknew.
Shegivesmeaknowingsmile.“Well,differentissometimeswhatweneed.
It’sgoodtobechallenged.”
“Well,heisdefinitelychallenging.”
Webothlaughandshepullsmeinforahug.“Yousweetgirl,youhavedone
moreforusthanyouknow.”IfeelmyeyestearingupandInod.
“Ihopeyoudon’tmindthatI’vebeenstayingovernight.Hardinhasaskedme
tostayagain,”Itellherandtrynottomakeeyecontact.
“No,ofcoursenot.Youbothareadults,andItrustyou’rebeingsafe.”
OhGod.Iknowmycheeksareadeepershadeofredthanthebulbswejust
planted.“We...uh...wedon’t,”Istammer.WhyamItalkingaboutthiswith
Hardin’ssoon-to-bestepmother?Iammortified.
“Oh,”shesays,equallyembarrassed.“Let’sgoinside.”
Ifollowherintothehouse,wherewebothtakeourdirtyshoesoffatthedoor.
Icanseeintothelivingroom,whereHardinissittingontheedgeofthecouch
and Ken is in the easy chair. Hardin’s eyes immediately find mine and relief
flushesthroughthem.
“I’llmakesomelatedinnerwhileyougetcleanedup,”Karensays.
Hardinstandsupandwalksovertome.Heseemsgladtobeoutoftheroom
withhisfather.
“We’llbebackdownsoon,”IsayandfollowHardinupthestairs.
“Howwasit?”Iaskasweenterhisroom.
Insteadofansweringme,hewrapshisfingersaroundmyponytailandbrings
his lips to mine. We stagger back against the door and he presses his body
againstme.“Imissedyou.”
Myinsidesliquefy.“Youdid?”
“Yes,Idid.Ijustspentthelastfewhourswithmyfatherinawkwardsilence,
andthensharingafewevenmoreawkwardcommentshereandthere.Ineeda
distraction.”Herunshistonguealongmybottomlipandmybreathcatchesin
mythroat.Thisisdifferent.Welcome,andveryhot,butdifferent.
Hishandstraveldownmystomachandstopatthebuttononmyjeans.
“Hardin,Ineedashower.Iamcoveredindirt,”Isay,laughing.
Histonguerunsalongmyneck.“Ilikeyouthisway,niceanddirty.”Hegives
methatsmilewiththosedimples.
ButIgentlypushhimbackandgrabmybagbeforeheadingtothebathroom.
My breathing is ragged and I’m a little disoriented, sowhen I tryto close the
bathroomdooronlytohaveitstopmidway,I’mconfused.UntilIlookdownand
IseeHardin’sboot.
“CanIjoinyou?”HesmilesandpusheshiswayintothebathroombeforeI
cananswer.
chapterseventy-one
Hisfingersgripthebottomofhisshirt,pullingitoverhishead,andhereaches
behindmetoturnontheshower.
“We can’t just take a shower together! We’re at your father’s house, and
Landon and Dakota could be back anytime,” I say. The idea of seeing Hardin
completelynakedundertheshowermakesmesquirmbutthisistoomuch.
“Well, then I’m going to take a nice hot shower while you stand there and
overanalyze.” His pants drop to the floor, along with his boxers, and he steps
pastmeandintothewater.Thebareskinonhisbackistight,pulledagainstthe
musclesthere.Hefacesme,hiseyesmovingupanddownmycoveredbody,the
waymineareonhisnakedone.Thewatercovershim,makinghistattooedskin
glisten.Idon’trealizeI’mstaringuntilheclosesthecurtainabruptly,hidinghis
perfectfigure.
“Don’t you just love a hot shower after a long day?” His voice is muffled
somewhatbythesoundofthewater,butIcanstillcatchitssmugness.
“I wouldn’t know; some rude naked guy stole my shower,” I huff and hear
himchuckle.
“Asexyrudenakedguy?”heteases.“Justcomeinbeforethehotwatergoes
away.”
“I...”I wantto,buttakingashowerwithsomeoneis justsointimate,too
intimate.
“Come on, live a little. It’s just a shower,” he says and opens the curtain.
“Please.” He reaches his hand out and my eyes scan his long, inked torso,
gleamingfromthewaterslidingdownhisskin.
“Okay,” I whisper and undress while he watches every move I make. “Stop
staring,”Iscoldhimandhepretendstobewounded,placinghishandoverhis
heart.
“Are you questioning my nobility?” He laughs and I nod slowly, trying to
fightmysmile.“Iaminsulted.”
Hereacheshishandouttohelp,andIcan’tbelieve I’m actually doing this,
showeringwithsomeone.ItrymybesttocovermyselfwithmyarmsasIwait
forhimtomovefromunderthewater.
“IsitweirdthatIlovehowyou’restillshyaroundme?”hesays,unfoldingmy
arms,removingmyshield.Istayquietandhegentlytugsmyarmstobringme
moreunderthewater,whichhe’sblockingwithhisbody.Hisheaddipsdown,
soakingmybareshoulder.
“Ithinkit’ssoappealingtomebecauseyouaresoshyandinnocent,yetyou
letmedodirtythingstoyou.”Hisbreathfeelshotterthanthewateragainstmy
ear.Iblinkashishandstraveldownmyarmsslowly.“AndIknowforafactthat
youlikewhenIsaydirtythingstoyou.”
Igulpandhesmilesagainstmyneck.“Seehowyourpulsequickens...Ican
practically see it under your delicate skin.” He taps his index finger over the
pulsepointinmyneck.IhavenoideahowIamstanding;mylegshaveturned
tomush,alongwithmybrain.
Hisfingersrunningovermybodymakemestopworryingaboutthefactthat
wearen’taloneinthehouse;theymakemewanttoberecklessandletHardindo
whatever he wants to me. When his long fingers wrap around my hips, I
involuntarilyleanintohim.
“Iloveyou,Tessa.Youbelieveme,don’tyou?”heasks.
Inod,wonderingwhyheisaskingmethisrightnow,afterwehavesaiditso
many times in the last twenty-four hours. “Yes, I believe you.” My voice is
hoarseandIclearmythroat.
“Good.Ihaveneverlovedanyonebefore.”Hegoesfromplayfultoseductive
toserioussofast,Icanbarelykeepup.
“Ever?” I think I already knew this, but it feels so differentactually having
himsaythewords,especiallywhenwearelikethis.Ithoughthewouldhavehis
headbetweenmylegsrightnow,notbeexpressinghisfeelings.
“No,never.Notevenclose,”headmits.
Iwonderifhehaseverhadagirlfriendbefore—no,Idon’twanttoknowifhe
has.Hetoldmehedoesn’tdate,soI’mgoingtostickwiththat.
“Oh,”isallIcansay.
“DoyoulovemethewayyoulovedNoah?”heasks.
Asoundbetweenacoughandagaspcomesoutofmymouth,andIlookaway
fromhim.Igrabtheshampooofftheshelf.Ihaven’tevenwashedanythingyet
andwehavebeeninhereseveralminutesalready.
“Well?”hepresses.
Idon’tknowhowtoanswerthat.It’stotallydifferentwithHardinthanitwas
withNoah.IlovedNoah,Ithink.IknowIlovedhim,justnotlikethis.Loving
Noahwascomfortableandsafe;itwasalwayscalm.LovingHardinisrawand
exciting;itsparksmyeverynerveandIcan’tgetenoughofhim.Ineverwantto
beawayfromhim.Evenwhenhedrovemecrazy,Imissedhimandhadtofight
myselftostayaway.
“I take that as a no,” he says and turns awayfrom me, letting me have full
accesstothewater.Ifeelcrampedinthetinyspaceandtheairistoothin,too
cloudedwithsteamfromthehotwater.
“It’s not the same.” How do I explain this to him without sounding insane?
His shoulders slack. I know if he was to face me he would be frowning. My
handswraparoundhiswaistandIpressmylipsagainsthisback.“It’snotthe
same,butnothowyou’rethinkingthatmeans,”Isay.“Iloveyouinadifferent
way.Noahwassocomfortabletomehewasalmostlikefamily.IfeltlikeIwas
supposed to love him but I really didn’t, not in the way I love you at least. It
wasn’tuntilIrealizedIlovedyouthatIsawhowdifferentlovewasfromwhatI
thoughtitwas.Idon’tknowifthatevenmakessense.”Apangofguilthitsme
forsayingIdidn’tloveNoah,butIthinkIknewthatfromthemomentIkissed
Hardinforthefirsttime.
“Itdoes.”Whenheturnsbackaround,hiseyesaremuchsofter.Thelust,then
apprehension are gone, replaced by . . . love? Or relief . . . I can’ttell but he
leansdownandkissesmyforehead.“Ijustwanttobetheonlypersonyouever
love;thatwayyouaremine.”
Howcouldhebesuchajerkbeforeandsaytheselovingthingstomenow?
Despite the hint of possessiveness in his tone, his words are sweet and
surprisinglyhumbleforhim.
“Inthewaysthatcount,youare,”Ipromisehim.Heseemspleasedwithmy
answerashissmilereturns.
“Now,canyoumovesoIcangetthisdirtoffmebeforethewatergoescold?”
Isayandgentlypushhimoutofmyway.
“I’ll do that for you.” He grabs the cloth and pours soap on it. I hold my
breath the entire time he gently scrubs the dirt off my body, and shiver as he
passesoverthesensitivespots,histouchlingeringonthem.
“Iwouldhaveyouwashme,butIwon’tbeabletostopwhatwouldhappen
after.”HewinksatmeandIblush.Iwanttofindoutwhatwouldhappenafter,
and I would love to touch every inch of his body. But Karen has probably
alreadyfinishedcookingandmightcomelookingforussoon.
Iknowtheresponsiblethingtodowouldbetoagreetoleavetheshower,but
it’shardtoconcentrateonbeingresponsiblewhenhe’snakedinfrontofme.I
reach for him, gripping his length in my palm, and he steps back against the
showerwall.HestaresatmeasIpumphimslowlyinmyhand.
“Tess,”hegroans,restinghisheadbackagainstthetiledwall.
Ikeepmyhandonhim,willinghimtogroanagain.Ijustlovethenoiseshe
makes. I glance down, admiring the way the water is spraying us, helping my
handtoglideeasilyoverhim.
“Youmakemefeelsofuckinggood.”
Hisgazeonmemakesmealittlenervous,butthewayhisteetharepressed
togetherandthewayhiseyelidsflutter,it’sasifhe’stryingtokeepthemopento
urgemetopleasurehimfurther.Mythumbrubsacrosstheheadofhispenisand
hecursesunderhisbreath.
“I’mgoingtocomenow,already.Fuck.”HiseyescloseandIfeelthewarmth
of his release mix with the hot water, and I can’thelp but stare until only the
waterisleftonmyhand.Hardinleansover,outofbreath,andpressesakissto
mymouth.
“Amazing,”hewhispers,kissingmeagain.
AfterIamdirt-freeandfeelingcalm,yetwoundupfromHardin’stouch,Idry
offquicklyandputonmyyogapantsandaT-shirtfrommybag,thenbrushmy
hair and pull it into a bun. Hardin wraps a towel around his waist and stands
behindme,watchingmethroughthemirror.Helookssoheavenlyandgodlike
andperfectandmine.
“Thosepantsaregoingtobedistracting,”hesays.
“Haveyoualwaysbeensuchapervert?”Iteaseandhenods.
ITISN’TUNTILWEWALKintothekitchenthatIrealizehowwelook,both
comingdownwithwethair.Itisobviousthatwejustshoweredtogether.Hardin
doesn’tseemtomind,butthen,hehasnomanners.
“Therearesomesandwichesoveronthecounter,”Karenproclaimscheerily,
pointingnearwhereKensitswithastackoffoldersinfrontofhim.Shedoesn’t
seemtobesurprisedormindourappearance;mymotherwouldlosehermindif
sheknewwhatIjustdid.EspeciallywithsomeonelikeHardin.
“Thankyousomuch,”Itellher.
“I had a nice time today, Tessa,” Karen says, and we start discussing the
greenhouseagainwhileweeachgatherupasandwichandsitdowntoeat.
Hardineatsinsilence,glancingatmefromtimetotime.
“Maybe we can do some more work next weekend,” I suggest, then catch
myself.“Nevermind,theweekendafter,”Isay,laughing.
“Yes,ofcourse.”
“Uh,isthereathemeorsomethingwiththewedding?”Hardininterrupts.
Kenlooksupfromhiswork.
“Well,thereisn’treallyatheme,butwehavechosenwhiteandblackforthe
décor,” Karen says nervously. I’m sure this is the only discussion they’ve had
withHardinabouttheweddingsincehelostitwhenKentoldhimaboutit.
“Oh.SowhatshouldIwear?”heaskscasually.Iwanttoreachoverandkiss
himafterseeinghisfather’sreaction.
“You’recoming?”Kenasks,clearlysurprisedbutveryhappy.
“Yeah...Iguess.”Hardinshrugsandtakesanotherbiteofhissandwich.
Karen and Ken smile at each other before Ken gets up and walks over to
Hardin. “Thank you, son, this means a lot to me.” He pats Hardin on the
shoulder.Hardinstiffensbutrewardshisfatherwithasmallsmile.
“Thisisgreatnews!”Karensaysandclapsherhands.
“It’s nothing,”Hardingrumbles.I move tositnextto him andputmy hand
overhisunderthetable.IneverthoughtIcouldgethimtoagreetothewedding,
letaloneactuallytalkaboutitinfrontofKenandKaren.
“Iloveyou,”IwhisperinhisearwhenKarenandKenaren’tpayingattention.
Hesmilesandsqueezesmyhand.“Iloveyou,”hewhispersback.
“So,Hardin,howareyourclassesgoing?”Kenasks.
“Good.”
“Inoticedyoumovedyourclassesaroundagain.”
“Yeah,and?”
“You’restill majoringin English, right?” Ken goeson, unwittinglypressing
hisluck;IcanseethatHardinisgettingannoyed.
“Yep.”
“That’sgreat!Irememberwhenyouweretenandyouwouldrecitepassages
fromThe Great Gatsby all day, every day. I knew you were a literature whiz
then,”hisfathersays.
“Doyou?Doyourememberthat?”Hardin’stoneisharsh.Isqueezehishand,
tryingtosignalhimtocalmdown.
“Yeah,ofcourseIdo,”Kensayscalmly.
Hardin’snostrilsflareandherollshiseyes.“Ifindthathardtobelievesince
you were constantly drunk, and, if I remember correctly, which I do, you tore
thatbooktopiecesbecauseIbumpedyourscotchandspilledit.Sodon’ttryto
takeastrolldownmemorylanewithmeunlessyouknowwhatthefuckyou’re
talkingabout.”HestandsupasKarenandIbothgasp.
“Hardin!”Kensaysasheleavestheroom.
IscurryafterhimandhearKarenyellingatKen.“Youshouldn’thavegone
that far with him, Ken! He just agreed to come to our wedding. I thought we
agreedonbabysteps!Thenyougoandsaysomethinglikethat.Youshouldhave
leftitalone!”
Althoughshesoundsmad,IcantellfromthebreaksinhervoicethatKarenis
reallyalreadycrying.
chapterseventy-two
HardinslamshisbedroomdoorasIreachthetopofthestairs.Iturntheknob,
half-expectingittobelocked,butitopens.
“Hardin,areyouokay?”Iask,unsurewhatelsetosay.
He answers me by grabbing the lamp off the nightstand and slamming it
against the wall. The glass base shatters from the impact. I jump back and a
small shriek comes out against my will. He paces over to the desk, grabs the
smallkeyboard,andripsitoutofthedesktopcomputer,tossingitbehindhim.
“Hardin,pleasestop!”Iyell.
Hedoesn’tlookatme,butknocksthemonitortothegroundandstartsyelling,
“Why? Why, Tessa? It’s not like he can’t afford to buy a new fucking
computer!”
“You’reright,”Isayandstepontopofthekeyboard,crushingitfurther.
“What?Whatareyoudoing?”heasksasIpickitupanddropitbackonthe
ground.I’mnotreallysurewhatIamdoingbutthekeyboard’salreadybroken,
andthisseemslikethebestideaatthemoment.
“I’mhelpingyou,”Itellhim,andconfusionflashesinhisangryeyesbefore
humortakesover.Ipickupthemonitorandthrowitagainstthefloor.Hewalks
overwithasmallsmileonhislipsasIpickitupagain,buthishandsstopmine
andhetakesthemonitoroutofmyhandsandsitsitonthedesk.
“You’renotmadatmeforyellingatmydadlikethat?”heasks,andcupsmy
cheeks,histhumbsgentlycaressingthemashisgreeneyesboreintomine.
“No, you have every right to express yourself. I would never be mad about
that.”Hejusthadafightwithhisdadbutheisworriedaboutmebeingmadat
him?“Unlessofcourseyou’rebeingmeanfornoreason,whichinthiscaseyou
weren’t.”
“Wow...”hesays.
Butthesmallgapbetweenourlipsistootempting.Ileanforwardandpress
mineagainsthis,andheimmediatelyopenshismouth,deepeningthekiss.My
fingers twist into his hair and he groans as I put more force into it. His anger
rollsoffhimlikeatidalwave.Ipushhimbackalittleandheturnsmearoundso
thebottomofmybackhitsthedesk.Hishandsattachtomyhipsandheliftsme
ontothedesk.Iamhisdistraction.ThethoughtofmebeingwhatHardinneeds
makesmefeelneededinawayIwasn’tawareof.Ifeelmoresolidnow,more
necessaryinhislife,andmyheadtiltsbackashecontinuestopushhistongue
againstmine,standingbetweenmylegs.
“Closer,”hemoansintomymouth.Hishandsgripthebackofmykneesand
hepullsmetotheedge.Myhandstugathisjeansandhepullshismouthaway
frommine.
“What...?”Heraisesaneyebrowatme.HemustthinkIaminsane,coming
inhereandhelpinghimbreakthings,andnowtryingtoundresshim.Andmaybe
I am. I don’t care at the moment. All I care about is the way the curve of
Hardin’s collarbones are shadowed by the moonlight coming through the bay
window,thewayoneofhishandsisholdingmyfacelikeIamfragile,despite
himtryingtobreakeverythingintheroomminutesago.
I answer him wordlessly by wrapping my legs around him and pulling him
closer.
“Ireallythoughtyouweregoingtostorminhereandtellmeoff.”Hesmiles
andpresseshisforeheadagainstmine.
“Youwerewrong,”Iremindhimwithasmugsmile.
“Very. Idon’twanttogobackdown there tonight,”hesays, eyes searching
mine.
“That’sfine.Youdon’thaveto.”
Herelaxesandmoveshisheadtothecrookofmyneck.I’msurprisedbyhow
easy this is between us. I had expected him to snap at me, maybe even try to
makemeleavewhenIcameinhere,buthereheisleaningonme.Icantellheis
reallytryingtonavigatethisrelationshipthebesthecan,despitethefactthathe
isonegiantmoodswing.
“I love you,” I tell him, and feel his lip ring move against my neck as he
smiles.
“Iloveyou,”hereplies.
“Doyouwanttotalkaboutit?”Iask,butheshakeshishead,stillburiedin
myneck.“Okay,doyouwanttowatchamovie?Somethingfunny,maybe?”I
suggest.
After a long pause, he looks back toward the bed. “Did you bring your
laptop?”WhenInodhecontinues.“Let’swatchTheVowagain.”
Ilaugh.“Youmeanthemoviethatyousupposedlydespise?”
“Yes...well,despiseisalittleharsh.Ijustthinkit’sasappy,mediocrelove
story,”hecorrects.
“Thenwhydoyouwanttowatchit?”
“BecauseIwanttowatchyouwatchit,”heanswersthoughtfully.
Remembering the way he watched me the entire time we watched it in my
room,thatnightseemssolongago.Ihadnocluewhatwascomingupbetween
us.Iwouldhaveneverimaginedwewouldcometothis.
Mysmileisalltheanswerheneedsashegrabsmywaistandcarriesmetothe
bed.
Withinminutes,heissnuggledupnexttomestudyingmyfaceasIwatchthe
movie.HalfwaythroughIfeelmyeyesgettingheavy.
“I’mgettingsleepy,”Isaywithayawn.
“Theybothdie;you’renotmissingmuch.”
Inudgehimwithmyelbow.“Youhaveissues.”
“Andyou’readorablewhenyou’resleepy.”Heclosesmylaptopandpullsme
uptothetopofthebedwithhim.
“Andyou’reuncharacteristicallynicewhenI’msleepy,”Isay.
“No, I’m nice because I love you,” he whispers and I swoon. “Sleep,
beautiful.”
Hegivesmeasmallpeckonmyforehead,andIamtootiredtotryformore.
THENEXTMORNING,thelightisbright,toobright.WhenIrollovertobury
myheadinHardin’sshoulder,hesighsinhissleepandpullsmecloser.WhenI
wakeupagain,heisawakeandstaringattheceiling.Hiseyesarehoodedand
hisexpressionunreadable.
“Youokay?”Iask,nuzzlingfartherintohim.
“Yeah,I’mfine,”heanswers,butIcantellheislying.
“Hardin,ifthereissomethingwrong...”Ibegin.
“Thereisn’t,I’mfine.”Idecidetoletitgo.Wehavegottenalongallweekend;
it’sarecordforus.Idon’twanttoruinit.Iliftmyheadupandplaceasingle
kissonhisjawandhisarmswraptighteraroundme.
“Ihaveafewthingstodotoday,sowheneveryou’reready,canyoudropme
offatmyhouse?”heasks.Mystomachdrops,hearingthedistanceinhisvoice.
“Sure,”Imumbleandmoveoutofhisembrace.HetriestograbmywristbutI
movetooquickly.Grabbingmybag,Iheadtothebathroomtochangeandbrush
my teeth. We have been in our own little bubble all weekend, and I fear that
withouttheprotectionofthesewalls,hewon’tbethesame.
I’mrelievedwhenIdon’trunintoLandonorDakotainthehallway,andeven
morerelievedthatHardinisfullydressedwhenIreturn.Iwanttogetthisover
with.Hehascleanedtheglassoffthefloorandthekeyboardisinthetrashcan,
thelampandmonitorneatlypilednearby.
Downstairs, I say goodbye to Ken and Karen, though Hardin walks outside
withoutsayingawordtoeitherofthem.IassurethemthatHardinwillstillbeat
the wedding, despite the drama last night. I tell them about the computer and
lamp,buttheydon’tseemtopayitmuchmind.
“Areyoumadorsomething?”Hardinasksaftertenminutesofsilence.
“No.”It’snotthatI’mmad,Iamjust...nervous,Isuppose.Icanfeelthe
shiftbetweenusandIwasn’texpectinganythingtochangefromhowwewere
allweekend.
“Itseemslikeit.”
“Well,I’mnot.”
“Youneedtotellmeifyouare.”
“You’re just being distant and now you’re having me drop you off at your
house,andIthoughteverythingwasfinebetweenus,”Isay.
“You’reupsetbecauseIhavethingstodotoday?”Whenhesaysitlikethat,I
realizehowridiculousandobsessiveIsound.IsthatwhyIamupset?Becausehe
isn’thangingoutwithmetoday?
“Maybe.” I laugh at my stupidity. “I just don’t want you to be distant from
me.”
“I’mnot...notonpurpose,atleast.IamsorryifImadeyoufeelthatway.”
He reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh. “Nothing is going to change,
Tessa.”
Hiswordscalmme,butthereisstillasliverofuncertaintybehindmysmile.
“Doyouwanttocomewithme?”hefinallyasks.
“No,I’mokay.Ihavesomestudyingtodoanyway.”
“Okay.Tess,youhavetorememberthisisnewtome.I’mnotusedtohaving
toconsiderotherpeoplewhenImakeplans.”
“Iknow.”
“I can come to your room when I’m finished, or we can go to dinner or
something.”
I put my hand on his cheek, then run it through his messy hair. “It’s fine,
really,Hardin.Justletmeknowwhenyou’refinishedandwecandecidethen.”
Whenwepulluptohishouse,heleansoverandgivesmeaswiftkissbefore
climbingoutofthecar.
“I’lltextyou,”hesays,andboundsupthestepstothatdamnedhouse.
chapterseventy-three
The emptiness that I feel after dropping Hardin off is strange, and makes me
feelabitpathetic.Aftertheshortdrivebacktomyroom,italreadyfeelsasifI
dropped him off hours ago. Steph isn’t in the room when I get there, but I’m
glad.IreallydoneedtostudyandprepareformyfirstdayatVancetomorrow:I
havetodecidewhattowear,whattobring,whatIamgoingtosay.
Taking out my planner, I plan my week by the hour, then move on to my
clothes.Dayoneat Vancewillbemy new blackskirtandared top andblack
heels,nottoohighbuthigherthanIwouldhaveconsideredwearingtwomonths
ago. The outfit is very professional but still feminine. I wonder idly if Hardin
willlikeit.
Tokeepmymindoffhim,Icompleteallofmyassignmentsthatareduethis
weekandthensome.BythetimeIfinish,thesunhasdisappearedfromthesky
and I’m starving, but the cafeteria is already closed. Hardin still hasn’t texted
me,soIassumeheisn’tplanningoncomingovertonight.
Grabbingmypurse,Iheadouttofindsomethingtoeat.Irememberseeinga
Chinese restaurant near the little library, but by the time I find the place it’s
closed. I look up the closest restaurant to me and find a place called the Ice
House.WhenIdrivethere,theIceHouseissmallandlookslikeit’smadeoutof
aluminum,butI’mhungryandtheideaoffindinganotherplacetoeatmakesmy
stomachrumbleevenmore.Goinginside,Irealizeit’smoreofabarthatserves
food, and that it’s actually quite packed, although to my surprise I manage to
findasmalltableinthebacktositat.
I ignore the glances of the people inside, who must be wondering why I’m
here alone, but I always eat alone. I am not one of those people who need
someonetogowiththemeverywhere.Igoshoppingalone,eatoutalone,andI
haveevenbeentothemoviesaloneafewtimeswhenNoahwasn’tabletocome.
Ineverreallyhavemindedbeingalone...untilnow,ifI’mhonestwithmyself.
ImissHardinmorethanIshould,andittroublesmethathehasn’tevenbothered
totextme.
Iorder,andwhileI’mwaitingonmyfood,thewaitressbringsmeoverapink
drinkwithayellowumbrellastickingoutofthetop.
“Oh,Ididn’torderthis,”Itellherbutshesitsitdowninfrontofmeanyway.
“He did.” She smiles and tilts her head toward the bar area. I immediately
hopethatit’sHardinsomehowandcranemynecktolook.Butit’snot.Zedgives
measmallwaveandadazzlingsmilefromacrosstheroom.Natewalksupand
takestheemptybarstoolnexttohimandshootsmeasmileaswell.
“Oh.Thanks,”Itellher.Itseemsthateveryplacearoundthiscampusallows
underage drinking, or maybe these guys only go to the places that do. She
assuresmethatmyfoodwillbereadyanyminuteandwandersoff.
A fewmomentslater,ZedandNatecomeover, pull the chairsoutfrommy
table, and take a seat. I hope Zed isn’t angry with me for what happened on
Friday.
“You’rethelastpersonthatIexpectedtoseeinhere,especiallyonaSunday,”
Natesays.
“Yeah,itwasan accident. Iwasgoingfor Chinese but itwasclosed,”I tell
them.
“HaveyouseenHardin?”ZedaskswithasmilebeforelookingatNate,who
sharesamysteriouslookwithhimbeforeturningbacktome.
“No,notforawhile.You?”Iaskthem.Mynervesareclearinmyvoice.
“No,notforafewhoursbutheshouldbeheresoon,”Nateanswers.
“Here?”Isqueak.Myfoodarrives,butI’mnolongerhungry.WhatifMolly
is with him? I won’t be able to take it, not after the weekend we just had
together.
“Yeah,wecomeherealot.Icancallhimandseewhenhe’llbehere?”Zed
suggestsbutIshakemyhead.
“No,it’sfine.I’mgoingtogo,actually.”Ilookaroundformywaitresstoask
formycheck.
“Youdidn’tlikethedrink?”Zedasks.
“No,well,Ididn’ttryit.Thanksforgettingitforme,butIshouldgo.”
“Areyouguysfightingagain?”heasks.
Nate begins to say something but Zed shoots him a glare from across the
table.Whatisgoingon?HetakesasipofhisbeerandlooksatNateagain.
“Hesaidwhat?”Iask.
“Nothing,hejustsaidyouguyswereonbettertermsnow.”Zedanswersfor
him.Thesmallbarfeelsevensmallernow,andIamdesperatetoleave.
“Oh,theretheyare!”Natesays.
MyeyesdarttothedoortoseeHardin,Logan,Tristan,Steph,andMolly—I
knewit.Iknowtheyarefriends,andIdon’twanttocomeoffascontrollingor
crazy,butIcan’tstandHardinbeingaroundthatgirl.
WhenHardin’seyesmeetminehelookssurprisedandalmostafraid.Notthis
again.Thewaitresswalksbywhiletheymaketheirwaytoourtable.
“Could I just get my food to go, and get the check, please?” I ask her. She
looks surprised, and then looks around at everybody who just showed up and
nods,thengoesbacktothekitchen.
“Whyareyougoing?”Stephasks.Thefiveofthemsitatthetablenexttous.
IrefusetoallowmyselftolookoveratHardin.Ihatethewayheissodifferent
around his friends—why can’t he just be the same Hardin that I had all
weekend?
“I...well,Ihavetostudy,”Ilie.
Shesmileshopefully.“Youshouldstay—youstudytoomuch!”
AnyhopethatHardinwouldscoopmeintohisarmsandtellmehehasmissed
meisgone.Thewaitressshowsupwithmyfood,andIhandheratwenty,then
standuptoleave.
“Well, you guys have a good night,” I tell them. I look at Hardin and then
backatthefloor.
“Wait,”Hardinsays.Iturnaroundandlookathim.Pleasedon’tlethimmake
aruderemarkorkissMollyagain.
“Aren’tyougoingtogivemeagood-nightkiss?”Hesmiles.
I look around at his friends and they all look a little surprised but mostly
confused. “W-what?” I stammer. I straighten my shoulders and look at him
again.
“You’renotgoingtokissmebeforeyougo?”Hestandsupandwalkstoward
me.Iwantedthis,butnowIamuncomfortablewitheveryone’seyesonus.
“Um...”Idon’tknowwhattosay.
“Whywouldshe?”Mollylaughs.God,Ican’tstandher.
“Theyareliketogether,obviously,”Stephtellsher.
“What?”Mollysays.
“Keepyourmouthshut,Molly,”ZedsaysandIwanttothankhim,butthereis
something behind his voice that makes me wonder about his choice of words.
Thisisbeyonduncomfortable.
“Bye,guys,”Isayagainandwalktowardthedoor.
Hardin follows me and grabs my wrist to stop me. “Why are you leaving?
Andwhyareyoueveninthisplacetobeginwith?”
“Well,Iwashungryandcameheretoeat.AndnowI’mleavingbecauseyou
wereignoringmeandI—”
“I wasn’t ignoring you, I just didn’t know what to say or do. I wasn’t
expectingtoseeyouhere.Itcaughtmeoffguard,”heexplains.
“Yeah,Iamsureitdid.Youhaven’ttextedmealldayandnowyou’rehere
withMolly?”MyvoicecomesoutmuchwhinierthanIwanted.
“AndLogan,Tristan,andSteph.NotjustMolly,”hepointsout.
“Iknow...butyouguyshaveahistoryandthatbothersme.”Isurelybroke
therecordforthequickestjealousfit.
“It’sjustthat,babe:history.Itwasn’tlikethis...notlikeus,”hesays.
Isigh.“Iknow,Ijustcan’thelpit.”
“Iknow.HowdoyouthinkIfeltwhenIwalkedinthereandsawyousitting
withZed?”
“That’snotthesamething.YouandMollyhaveslepttogether.”Justsayingit
stings.
“Tess...”
“Iknow,it’scrazy,butIcan’thelpit.”Ilookaway.
“It’snotcrazy.Iunderstand.Ijustdon’tknowwhattodoaboutit.Mollyisin
ourgroupandsheprobablyalwayswillbe.”
Idon’tknowwhatIexpectedhimtosaybuttheequivalentof“toobad”isn’t
whatIwantedtohear.“Okay.”Ishouldbehappythathebasicallytoldeveryone
wearedatingnow,butthewholethingfeltsooff.
“I’mgoingtogo,”Itellhim.
“ThenI’mcomingwithyou.”
“Yousureyouwanttoleaveyourfriends?”Isnap.
Herollshiseyesandfollowsmetomycar.Itrytohidemysmileaswegetin
thecar.AtleastIknowhewouldratherbewithmethanMolly.
“SohowlongwereyoutherebeforeIarrived?”HardinasksasIpulloutof
theparkinglot.
“Abouttwentyminutes.”
“Oh.Youdidn’tmeetZedthere,didyou?”
“No.ItwasthelastplaceopentoeatIcouldfind.Ihadnoideahewasthere
—orthatyouwouldshowup.Youknow,becauseyounevertextedme.”
“Oh,”hesaysandpausesforabeat.Butthenhelooksoveratmeagain.“So
whatdidyouguystalkabout?”
“Nothing; he was only at the table for a few minutes before you got there.
Why?”
“I’mjustwondering.”Hisfingersdrumonhisknee.“Imissedyoutoday.”
“Imissedyou,too,”Isayaswepullontocampus.“Igotalotofhomework
doneandIpreparedeverythingformyfirstdayatVance.”
“Doyouwantmetodriveyoutomorrow?”
“No,that’swhyIgotmyowncar,remember?”Ilaugh.
“Still,Icoulddriveyou,”heoffersaswegettomydormandheadinside.
“No,it’sfine.Iwilldrivemyself.Thankyou,though.”
JustasIamabouttoaskhimwhathedidallday—whyhehadn’ttextedmeif
he missed me so much—my breath gets locked in my throat and panic takes
over.
Mymotherisstandinginfrontofmydoorwithherarmscrossedandadeep
scowlonherface.
chapterseventy-four
Hardin’seyesfollowmineandwidenasheseesher.Hereachesformyhand,
butIpullawayandstepoutinfrontofhim.“Hi,Moth—”
“Whatthehellareyouthinking!”sheyellsasweapproach.
Iwanttoshrinkanddisappear.
“I...what?”Idon’tknowwhatsheknowsyet,soIstayquiet.Inheranger,
herblondhairlooksbrighter,moreangledtowardherperfectlydrawn-onface.
“Whatareyouthinking,Theresa!Noahhasbeenavoidingmeforthelasttwo
weeks,andIfinallyranintoMrs.Porteratthegrocery—andyouknowwhatshe
toldme?Thatyoutwohavebrokenup!Whywouldn’tyoutellme?Ihadtofind
outinthemosthumiliatingway!”sheshouts.
“It’s notthatbigadeal,Mother. Webrokeup,”Isayandshegasps. Hardin
staysbehindme,butIfeelhishandgotothesmallofmyback.
“Notthat big a deal? Howdare you—youand Noah have been togetherfor
years. He is good for you, Tessa. He has a future, and comes from a great
family!”Shepausestocatchherbreathamoment,butIdon’tinterrupt,knowing
there’smoretocome.Shestraightensupandsaysascalmlyasshecan,“Luckily,
I have just spoken to him and he has agreed to take you back, despite your
promiscuousbehavior.”
Angerflaresinsideme.“HowdareI?IfIdon’twanttodatehim,Idon’thave
to.Whatdoesitmatterwhattypeoffamilyhecomesfrom?IfIwasn’thappy
withhim,thatiswhatshouldmatter.Howdareyoutalktohimaboutthis—Iam
anadult!”
I push past her to open the door. Hardin follows close behind me and my
motherstormsinafter.
“You have no idea how ridiculous you sound! And then you show up here
with...this...this...punk!Lookathim,Tessa!Isthisyourwayofrebelling
againstme?HaveIdonesomethingtomakeyouhateme?”
Hardin is standing by my dresser with his jaw clenched and hands shoved
deep in his pockets. If only she knew that Hardin’s father is the chancellor at
WCUandhasevenmoremoneythanNoah’sfamily.ButIwon’ttell her that,
becausethathasnothingtodowithit.
“Thisisn’taboutyou!Whydoyouhavetomakeeverythingaboutyou!”My
tearsarefightingtobreakfree,butIrefusetolethergetthebestofme.Ihate
thatwhenIamangryIcry;itmakesmeseemweak,butIcan’thelpit.
“You’reright,itisn’taboutme—it’saboutyourfuture!Youhavetothinkof
thefuture,notjusthowyou’refeelingnow.Iknowheseemsfunanddangerous,
but there is no future here!” She gestures to Hardin. “Not with him . . . this
freak!”
BeforeI realize whatIam doing,I am inmy mother’sfaceand Hardin has
steppedforward,grabbingmebytheelbowstopullmeawayfromher.“Donot
talkabouthimlikethat!”Iscream.
My mother’s eyes are wide and red-rimmed. “Who are you? My daughter
wouldneverspeaktomethisway!Shewouldneverjeopardizeherfutureorbe
sodisrespectful!”
I begin to feel guilty, but that’s exactly what she wants, and I have to fight
throughittodefendwhatIwant.“Iamnotjeopardizingmyfuture!Myfuture
isn’t even in question here, I’ll have a four-point-oh, and I have a great
internship starting tomorrow! You are beyond selfish to come here and try to
makemefeelbadforbeinghappy.Hemakesmehappy,Mother,andifyoucan’t
acceptthat,thenyoushouldgo.”
“Excuseme?”Shehuffs,butintruthI’massurprisedbywhatIjustsaidas
sheis.“Youwillregretthis,Theresa!Iamdisgustedtoevenlookatyou!”
Theroomstartsspinning.Iwasnotpreparedtogotowarwithmymother,not
todayatleast.Iknewitwouldbeamatteroftimebeforeshefoundout,butshe
wasn’tevenonmyradarfortoday.
“IknewsomethingwasgoingonfromthefirsttimeIsawhiminyourroom.I
justdidn’tthinkyouwouldbesoquicktoopenyourlegsforhim!”
Hardinstepsbetweenus.“You’retakingthistoofar,”hewarnsherwithdark
eyes.IthinkHardinmaybetheonlypersonwhocouldactuallygivemymother
arunforhermoney.
“You stay out of this!” she snaps, crossing her arms once again. “If you
continuetoseehim,Iwillnolongerspeaktoyou,andyousurelycan’tpayfor
collegeonyourown.Thisdormalonecostsmethousands!”sheshrieks.
I’m astounded that my mother would go there. “You’re threatening my
educationbecauseyoudon’tapproveofwhoIaminlovewith?”
“Inlovewith?”shescoffs.“OhTheresa,mynaïveTheresa,youhavenoidea
whatloveis.”Shelaughs,makingasoundthatismorelikeasickeningcackle.
“Andyouthinkhelovesyou?”
“Idoloveher,”Hardininterrupts.
“Sureyoudo!”Herheadfallsback.
“Mother.”
“Theresa, I’m warning you: If you don’t stop seeing him, there will be
consequences.I’mleavingnow,butIexpect a callafteryou clear yourhead.”
She storms out of my room, and I go into the doorway to watch her as she
stompsaway,herheelsclunkingandechoingdownthehall.
“Iamsosorry.”IturntoHardin.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He takes my face in his hands. “I am
proudofthewayyoustoodupforyourself.”Hekissesmynose.Ilookaround
theroomandwonderjusthoweverythingcametothis.IleanintoHardin’schest
andhereachesaroundme,rubbingthetensemusclesonmyneck.
“Ican’tbelieveher,Ican’tbelieveshewouldactlikethatandthreatennotto
help pay for my college. She doesn’t pay for all of it—I have a partial
scholarshipandsome studentloans.Sheonly pays twentypercent;the biggest
thingisthedorms.Butwhatifshereallystopspayingforthem?Iwillhaveto
finda job on top ofthe internship,”I sob. His hand movesto the back of my
headandgentlyguidesmyheaddowntocryonhischest.
“Shh...Shh...It’sokay,wewillfigureitout.Youcanmoveinwithme,”
hesays.Ilaughand wipemyeyes,buthegoeson,“Really,youcould.Orwe
couldgetanapartmentoffcampus.Ihaveenoughmoney.”
Ilookupathim.“Youcan’tbeserious.”
“Iam.”
“Wecan’tmoveintogether.”Ilaughandsniffle.
“Whynot?”
“Becausewehaveonlyknowneachotherforafewmonths,andmostofthat
timewasspentfighting,”Iremindhim.
“So,wehavedoneaprettygoodjobgettingalongthisweekend.”Hesmiles
andwebothburstintolaughter.
“You’re insane. I am not moving in with you,” I tell him and he hugs me
again.
“Just think about it—I want to move out of the frat house anyway. I don’t
really fit in there, in case you didn’t notice,” he says and laughs. It’s true, his
smallgroupoffriendsaretheonlyoneswhodon’twearpoloshirtsandkhakis
everyday.“Ionlyjoinedtopissmyfatheroff,butitdidn’tworkaswellasIhad
hoped.”
“Youcouldjustgetanapartmentonyourownifyoudislikethehouse,”Isay.
ThereisnowayIammovinginwithhimthissoon.
“Yeah,butthatwouldn’tbeasfun.”Hegrinsandwiggleshisbrowsatme.
“Wecouldstillhavefun,”Itease.
His wicked smile grows and he brings both hands down to my bottom and
squeezes.
“Hardin!”Iscoldhimplayfully.
Thedooropensandmybreathingstops.Flashbacksofmymother’sangerfill
myvision,andI’mafraidshe’scomebackforroundtwo.
SoI’mrelievedwhenit’sStephandTristanwhowalkintotheroom.
“Guess I missed something grand. Your mom just flipped me off in the
parkinglot,”Stephsays,andIcan’thelpbutlaugh.
chapterseventy-five
Hardin ends up staying the night in my room after Steph goes to Tristan’s
apartmentwith him. Therest ofthe night wespend talkingand kissingbefore
Hardinfinallyfallsasleepwithhisheadonmylap.Idreamofatimeandplace
wherewecouldactuallylivetogether.Iwouldlovetowakeupeverymorningto
findHardinnexttome,butit’snotrealistic.I’mtooyoung,andthat’smoving
toofast.
Monday morning, my alarm goes off ten minutes late, throwing my whole
morningoff.AfterIshoweranddomymakeupquickly,IwakeHardinbefore
plugginginmyblowdryer.
“Whattimeisit?”hegroans.
“It’ssixthirty.Ihavetoblow-drymyhair.”
“Sixthirty?Youdon’thavetobethereuntilnine;comebacktobed.”
“No,Istillhavetodomyhairandgetcoffee.Ihavetoleaveherebyseven
thirty;thedriveisforty-fiveminutes.”
“You’dbethereforty-fiveminutesearly;youshouldleaveateight.”Hecloses
hiseyesandrollsbackover.
Iignorehimandturnonmyblowdryer;hetakesapillowandcovershishead
withit.Aftercurlingmyhair,IgoovermyplanneragaintomakesureIdidn’t
missanything.
“Areyougoingtojustgotoclassfromhere?”IaskHardinasIgetdressed.
“Yeah, probably.” He smiles and crawls out of bed. “Can I use your
toothbrush?”
“Uh,Iguess...I’lljustbuyanewoneonmywayback.”Noonehasever
asked to use my toothbrush before. I mentally picture myself putting it in my
mouthafterheusesit,butnothinggoodcomesofthat.
“Istillsayyoushouldn’tleaveuntileight;thinkofthethingswecoulddoin
thirtyminutes,”hesays, andIlookoverathimandhistemptingdimples,and
noticethewayhiseyestravelupanddownmybody.Myowneyestraveltothe
bulge in his boxers and my body immediately heats. My fingers stop on the
middlebuttonofmyshirtashelazilycrossesthesmallroomtostandbehindme.
Igestureforhimtozipmyskirt,andhecomplies,buthishandsbrushmybare
skindelicatelyashedoesso.
“Ihaveto.Istillhavetogetsomecoffee,”Isayfrantically.“Whatifthereis
traffic?Anaccident?Icouldblowatireorneedgas.Icouldgetlost,ornotbe
abletofindsomewheretopark.WhatifIhavetoparkintheverybackandthen
I have to walk a long way and I will be out of breath, so I will need a few
minutesto—”
“You need to calm down, baby. You’re a nervous wreck.” He sends a little
breathacrossmyear.Ilookathiminthemirror.Helookssoperfectwhenhe
wakesup,hissleepinessmakinghimlooksofter.
“Ican’thelpit;thisinternshipmeanssomuchtome.Ican’ttakethechanceof
messingitup.”Mymindisracing.Iwillbefineaftertoday,afterIknowwhatto
expectandcanplanmyweekaccordingly.
“Youdon’twanttoshowuptherenervouslikethis;theywilleatyoualive.”
Heplacesastringofsmallkissesdownmyneck.
“Iwill befine.” I hope. Goose bumps cover my skin from his warm breath
againstmyneck.
“Letmerelaxyoufirst.”Hisvoiceislowandseductive,lacedwithsleep.
“I...”
Hetrailshisfingersovermycollarboneanddowntomychest.Hiseyesmeet
mine in the mirror and I sigh in defeat. “Five minutes?” I ask and beg at the
sametime.
“That’sallIneed.”
Imovetoturnaround,buthestopsme.“No,Iwantyoutowatch,”hepurrsin
myear.Ifeelthefamiliartwingebetweenmylegsfromhiswords.Igulpandhe
moves my hair over my left shoulder and pushes his body against mine. His
handtravelsdowntothehemofmylongskirt.
“Atleastyouaren’twearingtightstoday.ImustsayIamafanofthisskirt.”
Hepullsituptomywaist.“Especiallywhenit’slikethis.”
Myeyesaregluedtohishandsinthemirrorandmypulseisthrumming.His
fingersareslightlycoldastheyslipintomypanties;thecontactmakesmejump
slightly and he chuckles into my neck. His other hand is wrapped around my
chest,holdingmeinplace.Ifeelsoexposed,butsoturnedonatthesametime.
Watching him touch me takes my mind places that I never knew existed. His
fingersmoveslowlyinsidemeandhekissesmynecksoftly.
“Lookhowbeautifulyouare,”hewhispersagainstmyskin.Ilookatmyself
inthemirrorandbarelyrecognizethegirlbeforeme.Mycheeksareflusheda
deepred;myeyesarewideandwild.Withmyskirtbunchedupatmyhipsand
Hardin’sfingersmovinginsideme,Ilookdifferent...sexy,even.
My eyes close as I feel my stomach tightening. Hardin continues his
beautifully slow assault and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to stifle a
moan.
“Open your eyes,” he instructs. My eyes meet his and it sends me over the
edge—Hardinstandingbehindme,holdingme,watchingmecomeundonefrom
histouchisallittakes.Myheadrollsbackonhisshoulderandmylegsstartto
shake.
“That’sit,baby,”hecoosandtightenshisgriparoundme,holdingmeupas
myvisionblursandImoanhisname.
Whenmyeyesopenagain,Hardinkissesmytempleandtucksacurlbehind
myearbeforetuggingmyskirtbackdownmythighs.Iturnaroundtofacehim
andchecktheclock.It’sonlyseventhirty-five.
Hereallydidonlyneedfiveminutes,Ithinktomyselfandsmile.
“See, you’re much more relaxed and ready to take on corporate America,
right?”Hebeams,obviouslyproudofhimself.Idon’tblamehim.
“Yes,actually.ButyoumakeaterribleAmerican,”Iteaseandgrabmybag.
“I don’tclaim to be otherwise,” he says. “Last chance for me to drive you.
Well,sincemycarisn’there,Icoulddriveyouinyourcar?”
“No;thankyou,though.”
“Goodluck;you’lldogreat.”
HekissesmeagainandIthankhimandgathermythings,leavinghiminmy
room. This morning has turned out to be great despite my alarm being ten
minutesoff.Thedriveisquickandclear,sowhenIpullintotheparkinglotit’s
onlyeightthirty.IdecidetocallHardintopassthetime.
“Youokay?”hesaysontheotherend.
“Yeah,I’malreadyhere,”Itellhim.Icanpicturehisself-satisfiedexpression.
“Toldyou.Youcouldhavestayedfortenmoreminutesandgivenmeablow
job.”
Igiggle.“Alwayssuchapervert,eventhisearlyinthemorning.”
“Yep,Iamnothingbutconsistent.”
“Iwon’targuewiththat.”Webanterbackandforthabout hislackofvirtue
until it’s time for me to go inside. I make my way to the top floor, where
ChristianVance’sofficeislocated,andgivethewomaninthefrontmyname.
She gives someone a call and a few moments later gives me a huge smile.
“Mr.Vancewouldliketocomeouthimself;hewillseeyouinasecond.”
The door to the office I was interviewed in opens, and Mr. Vance himself
comesout.“Ms.Young!”hegreetsme.HeisdressedinsuchanicesuitthatI’m
a little intimidated, but thankful that I dressed professionally. He is holding a
thickfolderunderhisarm.
“Hello,Mr.Vance.”Ismileandreachouttoshakehishand.
“GoaheadandcallmeChristian.Iwillshowyoutoyouroffice.”
“Office?”Iblurtout.
“Yes,youwillneedyourownspace.It’snotmuch,butit’llbeyours.Let’sgo
overyourpaperworkthere.”HesmilesandthenwalksoffsoquicklythatIstrain
tokeepupinmyheels.Hemakesaleftturnintoahallwayfullofsmalloffices.
“Hereweare,”heannounces.Thereisablacktagwithmynameinboldwhite
lettersnexttothedoor.
Imustbedreaming.Theofficeisasbigasmydormroom.Mr.VanceandI
havedifferentideasof“notmuch.”Inside,thereisamedium-sizedcherrydesk,
two filing cabinets, two chairs, a bookshelf, a computer—and a window! He
takesaseatinfrontofthedesk,soIgoandsitbehindit.It’sgoingtotakesome
gettingusedtotheideathatthisisactuallymyoffice.
“So,Ms.Young,let’sgooverwhatyourdutieswillinclude,”hesays.“You
willbeexpectedtogooveratleasttwomanuscriptsaweek;iftheyareexcellent
and fit in with what we publish here, then you will send them to me. If they
aren’tworthmelookingat,tossthem.”
Mymouthfallsopen.Thisinternshipisliterallyadreamcometrue.Iwillbe
paidandreceivecollegecredittoread.
“You will start out at two hundred a week, and if you do well after ninety
days,youwillreceivearaise.”
Twohundredaweek!Thatshouldbeenoughformetogetmyownapartment,
albeitatinyone.
“Thankyousomuch;thisisallsomuchmorethanIexpected,”Itellhim.I
can’twaittocallHardinandtellhimaboutallofthis.
“It’smypleasure.Ihaveitongoodauthoritythatyouareaveryhardworker.
MaybeyoucaneventellHardinhowgreatitis,sohe’llcomebackandworkfor
meagain,”hesaysjokingly.
“What?”
“Hardin,heusedtoworkforusbeforeBolthousesnatchedhimup.Hestarted
as an intern here last year, did great work, and I quickly hired him. But they
offeredhimmoremoney—andlethimworkfromhome.Saidhedidn’tlikethe
officesetting,soheleftus.Gofigure.”Hesmilesandadjustshiswatch.
Ilaughnervously.“I’llremindhimhowgreatthisplaceis.”Ihadnoideahe
hadajob.Hehasnevermentionedittome.
Mr. Vanceslidesthefolderacrossthedesktome.“Let’sgetthispaperwork
outoftheway.”
Afterthirtyminutesof“signhere”and“initialhere,”wearefinallyfinished
andMr.Vanceleavesmeto“familiarize”myselfwiththecomputerandoffice.
Butassoonashewalksoutandclosesthedoorbehindhim,allIcanthinkto
doissquealandspinmyselfaroundinmychair,atmydesk,inmynewoffice!
chapterseventy-six
WhenIgetbacktomycarafterthebestfirstdaypossible,IcallHardin,buthe
doesn’tanswer.Iwanttotellhimabouthowgreatmymorninghasbeenandask
himwhyhedidn’ttellmethathehasajoborworkedatVance.
BythetimeIgetbacktocampusit’sonlyone,sincetheydismissedmeearly,
being busy with some high-level meetings or something. I basically have the
wholedaytodonothing,soIendupgoingtothemallandwalkingaround.After
wanderinginandoutofalmosteverystorethere,IgointoNordstrom,figuringI
coulduseafewmoreoutfitsformyinternship.ThememoryofHardinandmein
themirrorthismorningflashesinmymind,andIrealizeIcouldalsousesome
new panties and bras. My undergarments are so plain and I have had them a
while.Hardindoesn’tseemtomind,butIwouldlovetoseehisfaceifItookmy
shirtoffandhadabrathatwasn’tplainoldblackorwhite.Ipickthroughthe
racksandfindafewpromisingsets.Myfavoriteoneiscarnationpinkandmade
almostcompletelyfromlace.Pullingitoffoftherackalonemakesmeblush,but
I really like it. A saleswoman with curly hair and way too much red lipstick
walksovertotrytohelpme.
“Oh yeah, that’s nice, but what do you think about this one?” she says and
holdsupsomethingthatresemblesahotpinkbundleofstringsonahanger.
“Um...notreallymystyle,”Itellherandlookattheground.
“Iseeyoupreferthefullunderwear?”sheasks.Whymustweactuallydiscuss
myunderwearchoices?Thiscouldnotbemorehumiliating.
“Youshouldtrytheboyshortstyle;it’ssexywithoutbeingtoosexy,”shesays
and holds up the same light pink set I am holding, only the panties are made
differently.Boyshorts.Inevercaredtoomuchaboutmypantiesbecausenoone
hasseenthem;whoknewthiswouldbesohumiliatingandcomplicated.
“Okay.”Igiveinandshepullsafewmoreofftherack:awhite,ablack,anda
red set. The red is a little shocking to me, but I have to admit it’s intriguing.
Eventheblackandwhiteoneslookmoreexoticthanmyusualchoicesbecause
theyaremadeoflace.
Her smile is a wide and scary chasm. “Just try them; they are all the exact
samestyle.”Inodpolitelyandtakethemfromher,hopingthatifIwalkaway
shewon’tfollowme.Relievedwhenshedoesn’t,Ifindafewdressesaswelland
a pair of comfortable dress shoes. I have to ask the cashier to repeat my total
threetimesbeforeIfinallypay.FancyunderwearismuchmoreexpensivethanI
thought.Hardinhadbetterlikeit.
When I get back to my room, Steph isn’t there and I haven’t heard from
Hardin,soIdecidetotakeanap.MynewclothesareputawayandIshutoffthe
light.
I wake up to an unfamiliar ringtone. I roll over and open my eyes. Sure
enough,HardinissittingonthechairwithhisfeetuponSteph’sdresser.
“Haveanicenap?”heaskswithasmile.
“Yeah,actually.Howdidyougetinhere?”Irubmyeyes.
“GotmykeybackfromSteph.”
“Oh.Howlonghaveyoubeenhere?”
“Aboutthirtyminutes.HowwasyourdayatVance?Ididn’tthinkyouwould
bebackalready;it’sonlysix.Buthereyouarepassedout,snoringaway,soit
musthavefeltlikealongone.”Helaughs.
Ipropmyselfuponmyelbowandlookathim.“Itwasgreat.Igotmyown
office,withmynameonthewalloutsideit—Ican’tbelieveit!It’swonderful.I
willbemakingalotmoremoneythanIthought,andIgettoreadmanuscripts;
howperfectisthat?I’mjustafraidthatIwillmessitupsomehowbecauseit’sso
perfect.Youknow?”Iramble.
“Whoa, Vance must like you.” He raises a brow. “But you’ll do fine, don’t
worry.”
“Hesaidyouworkedthere,”Itellhim,testinghisreaction.
“Ofcoursehedid.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Or that you have a job now? When do you even
havetimetowork?”
“You always have so many questions.” He runs his hands through his hair.
“ButIwillanswerthem,”headds.“Ididn’ttellyoubecause,well,Idon’tknow
why,actually.AndImaketimetowork.WheneverIamnotwithyou,Ifindthe
time.”
Isitcross-leggedandfacehim.“Mr.Vancereallylikesyou—hesaidhewants
youtoworkforhimagain.”
“Iamsurehedoes,butno,thanks.ImakemorethanIdidthereandhaveless
work,”hebragsandIrollmyeyes.
“Tellmeaboutyourjob.Whatexactlydoyoudo?”
He shrugs. “Read manuscripts, edit them. Same thing you’ll do, but more
involved.”
“Oh.Doyoulikeit?”
“Yes,Tessa.Ido.”Histoneisalittleharsh.
“That’s good. Do you want to work for a publishing house when you
graduate?”
“Idon’tknowwhatIwanttodo.”Herollshiseyes.
“DidIsaysomething?”Iask.
“No,youjustasktoomanyquestionsallthetime.”
“What?”Ishebeingsarcasticorserious?
“Youdon’tneedtoknoweverydetailaboutmylife,”hesnaps.
“Iamjustmakingconversation,havingacasualdiscussionaboutyourjob,”I
say.“Thosearejustnormalthingspeopledo—sorryfortakinganinterestinyour
everydaylife.”
Hedoesn’tsayanything.Whatthehellishisproblem?Ihadanamazingday
and the last thing I want to do is fight with him. I direct my attention to the
ceilingandstayquietaswell.EventuallyIlearnthereareninety-fivepanelsup
there,andfortyscrewsholdingthemup.
“Ineedtotakeashower,”Ifinallysay.
“Sogo,then,”hehuffs.
Irollmyeyesandgrabmytoiletrybag.“Youknow,Ithoughtwewerepast
this,thewholeyou-being-an-asshole-for-no-reasonthing?”Isayandwalkoutof
theroom.
Itakemytimeintheshower,shavingandreshavingmylegsforthedressthat
IboughttoweartomorrowformyfirstrealdayatVance.Iambeyondnervous,
butmyexcitement tops everything.Ireallywish Hardinwasn’tbeing sorude.
AllIdidwasaskhimaboutajobthathedidn’ttellmeabout.Ishouldbeableto
talktohimaboutthat,butthere’sjustsomuchabouthimthatIdon’tknow,and
itmakesmereallyuncomfortable.
Itrytofigureouthowtoexplainthattohim,butwhenIgetbacktomyroom,
Hardin’sgone.
chapterseventy-seven
IambeyondannoyedatHardin’sunnecessaryattitude,butItrytoforgetitand
brushthetanglesoutofmywethairandputonthelightpinklingerieIbought
today.IslipaT-shirtovermyheadandlookovermystufffortomorrow.AllI
canthinkaboutiswherehewent;IknowI’mobsessiveandalittlecrazy,butI
can’thelpworryingthathe’swithMolly.
WhiledecidingwhetherornottocallHardin,Ireceiveatextmessagefrom
Steph saying that she won’t be back tonight. She might as well move in with
TristanandNate;shestaystherefivenightsaweekandTristanabsolutelyadores
her. He probably told her about his job on their second date and he probably
wouldn’tsnapatherandleavefornoreason.
“Lucky Steph,” I say to myself and grab the remote for her television. My
fingerspressthebuttonsabsentmindedlyandIsettleonarerunofFriendsthatI
haveseenatleastonehundredtimes.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIwatched
television,butit’snicetojustlieinbedandwatchasimplecomedy,toescape
fromthemostrecentpointlessfightwithHardin.
Aftera few episodes of various shows, Ifeel myeyes getting heavy.In my
sleepystatemyangermomentarilydisappearsandItextHardingoodnight,but
hedoesn’treplybeforesleepovertakesme.
“Shit.”Aloudthudwakesmeup.Ijoltuprightandturnonthelamptofinda
stumblingHardintryingtonavigatethedarkroom.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iaskhim.
Whenhelooksupatmehiseyesareredandglossy.Heisdrunk.Great.
“Icameheretoseeyou,”hesaysandplopsdowninthechair.
“Why?”Iwhine.Iwanthimhere,butnotdrunkandattwointhemorning.
“BecauseImissedyou.”
“Thenwhydidyouleave?”
“Becauseyouwereannoyingme.”
Ouch. “Okay, I’m going back to sleep; you’re drunk and you’re obviously
goingtobemeanagain.
“I’m not being mean, Tessa. And I’m not drunk . . . okay . . . I am, but so
what?”
“Idon’tcarethatyouaredrunk,butit’saschoolnightandIneedmysleep.”I
wouldstayupallnightwithhimifIknewhewouldn’tsayhurtfulthingstome
theentiretime.
“It’s a school night,” he mocks me. “Could you be more of a square?” He
laughslikehe’sjustsaidthefunniestthingever.
“Youshouldjustgo,”Isayandliebackdown,turningtofacethewall.Idon’t
likethisHardin.IwantmysemisweetHardinback.Notthisdrunkjerk.
“Aww,baby,don’tbemadatme,”hesays,butIignorehim.“Doyoureally
wantmetogo?YouknowwhathappenswhenIsleepwithoutyou,”hesays,just
aboveawhisper.
Myheartsinks.Idoknowwhathappens,butit’snotfairforhimtousethat
againstmewhenhe’sdrunkandtauntingme.
“Fine.Youcanstay,butI’mgoingbacktosleep.”
“Why?Youdon’twanttohangoutwithme?”
“Youaredrunkandbeingmean.”Ifinallyturnbackaroundtofacehim.
“I’m not being mean,” he says, his expression neutral. “All I said was you
werebeingannoying.”
“That’ssortofmeantosaytosomeone.EspeciallywhenallIdidwasaskyou
aboutyourjob.”
“Oh God, not this again. Come on, Tessa, just drop it. I don’t want to talk
aboutthatrightnow.”Hisvoiceiswhinyandheslurshiswords.
“Whydidyoudrinktonight?”Idon’tmindifhedrinks;Iamnothismother,
andhe’sanadult.Thethingthatbothersmeisthateverytimehedrinksthereisa
reasonbehindit.Hedoesn’tjustdrinkforfun.
Helooksawayfrommeandtowardthedoorasifplanninganescape.“I...I
don’tknow...Ijustfeltlikehavingadrink...well,drinks.Canyouplease
stopbeingmadatme?Iloveyou,”hesaysandbringshiseyestomeetmine.
His simple words dissolve most of my anger and I find myself wanting his
armsaroundme.
“I’mnotmadatyou,Ijustdon’twanttobacktrackinourrelationship.Idon’t
like when you turn on me for no reason, then just leave. If you’re mad about
something,Iwantyoutotalktomeaboutit.”
“Youjustdon’tliketonothavecontrolovereverything,”hesaysandwobbles
alittle.
“Excuseme?”
“You’reacontrolfreak.”Heshrugsasifit’saknownfact.
“No,I’mnot.Ijustlikethingsacertainway.”
“Yeah,yourway.”
“SoIguesswearen’tdonefighting,then.Anythingelseyouwanttothrowin
therewhileyou’reareit?”Isnap.
“Nope,justthatyou’reacontrolfreakandIreallywantyoutomoveinwith
me.”
What?Hismoodsgivemewhiplash.
“Youshouldmoveinwithme—Ifoundanapartmenttoday.Ihaven’tsigned
anythingyet,butit’saniceplace.”
“When?”It’shardtokeepupwiththefivepersonalitiesofHardinScott.
“AfterIlefthere.”
“Beforeyougotdrunk?”Iask.
Herollshiseyes.Thelightfromthelamphitsthemetalofhiseyebrowring,
andIfighttoignorehowattractivethatis.
“Yes,beforeIgotdrunk.Sowhatdoyousay?Areyougoingtomoveinwith
me?”
“Iknowyouarenewatthisdatingthing,butpeopledon’tusuallyinsulttheir
girlfriendand ask them to move in with them in the samesentence,” I inform
him,chewingmybottomliptosuppressmysmile.
“Well, sometimes the said girlfriend needs to lighten up.” He grins. Even
drunk,he’scharmingashell.
“Well,thensaidboyfriendneedstostopbeingajerk,”Isaytoretaliate.
Helaughsandmovesfromthechairovertomybed.“Iamtryingnottobea
jerk,Ireallyam.SometimesIcan’thelpit.”Hesitsontheedgeofthebed.“I’m
really,reallygoodatit!”
“Iknow,”Isigh.Regardlessofthisepisodetonight,Iknowhereallyhasbeen
tryingtobenicer.Idon’twanttomakeexcusesforhim,buthehasdonemuch
betterthanIexpected.
“Soyouwillmoveinwithme?”Hesmileshopefully.
“Jesus,let’stakethisonestepatatime.Iwillstopbeingmadatyoufornow,”
I tell him and sit up. “Now come to bed with me,” I instruct. He raises an
eyebrow as if to say, “See, control freak,” but stands up to pull his jeans off
anyway.Whenheremoveshisshirtheputsitonthebedbeforeme,andIlove
thathewantsmetowearhisshirtsasmuchasIwantto.
Ipullmyshirtofftosliphisovermyheadwhenhestopsme.
“Fuck,”heblurtsout and Ilookup. “What areyouwearing?”His eyes are
darkandwide.
“I...Igotsomenewunderweartoday.”Iflushandlookaway.
“Iseethat...Fuck,”herepeats.
“Youalreadysaidthat.”Igiggle.ThelightinHardin’seyesisblazingforme
—anditmakesmyskintingle.
“Youlookincredible.”Hegulps.“Youalwaysdo,butthisisjust...”
WithadrymouthIlookdowntowherehisboxersstrainagainsthisgrowing
bulge.Theenergybetweenushaschangedforthefifthtimetonight.
“Iwasgoingtoshowyouearlier,butyouweretoobusybeingajerk.”
“Mmm,” he mumbles, clearly not paying attention to what I’m actually
saying. He places his knee on the bed and looks my body up anddown again
beforeclimbingontopofme.
His lips taste like whiskey and mint, and the combination is heavenly. Our
kisses are soft and teasing, coming together and drifting apart, his tongue
playfully gliding over mine. His hand wraps into my hair and I can feel his
erectionpressagainstmystomachashebringshisbodyclosertome.Heletsgo
ofmyhairtoholdhimselfuponhiselbowandusehisotherhandtotouchme.
Hislongfingersrunalongtheundersidesofmylacebra,dippingdowninsideof
itandbackout.Helickshislipsashecupsmewithhislargepalms,rubbingup
anddown.
“Ican’tdecideifIwantthistostayon...”hesays.Icouldn’tcareless;Iam
toomesmerizedbyhisgracefulfingersonmyskin.
“Offitis,”hesaysandunclaspsmybra.Iarchmybackforhimtopullitoff
andhegroansashiscrotchpressesagainstmine.
“Whatdoyouwanttodo,Tess?”Hisvoiceisshakyanduncontrolled.
“Ialreadytoldyoubefore,”Isayashepushesmypantiestotheside.Iwish
hewouldn’thavedrunktonight,butmaybehishalf-drunkenstatewillmakeme
seemlessawkward.
IcryoutashisfingersentermeandIwraponeofmyarmsaroundhim,trying
tograsponto something, anything. Ireachbetween uswith my otherhand to
palmhim.HegroansandIsqueezegentlyandstrokehimlightly.
“You’resure?”hepants.Icanseetheuncertaintyinhiscleargreeneyes.
“Yes,Iam sure. Stopoverthinkingit.”Boy,havethetables turned, thatI’m
theonesayingthistohim.
“Iloveyou.Youknowthat,don’tyou?”
“Yes.”Ipressmylipsagainsthis.“Iloveyou,Hardin,”Isayintohismouth.
Hisfingerscontinuepumpinginandoutslowlyandhismouthmovestomy
neck.Hesucksatmyskinharshly,thenslideshistongueovertheachetosoothe
it.Herepeatsthisoverandover,andmyentirebodyisonfire.
“Hardin . . . I am . . .”I try to say and he quickly pulls his hand from me,
kissing me as I whimper. He scoots back and hooks his fingers around my
panties,pullingthemdownmylegs.Heplacesbothofhishandsonmythighs
and squeezes gently before kissing down my stomach and blowing on my
wetness.My body involuntarilylifts offthe bed and his tonguemoves up and
down while he wraps his arms around my thighs, keeping them apart. Within
secondsmylegsbegintoshakeandIgripthesheetsandhecontinueslapping
histonguearoundme.
“Tellmehowgooditfeels,”hesaysagainstme.
StrangledsoundsescapemylipsasItrytosaysomething,anything.Hardin
continues to say dirty things, licking me between them, forming a delicious
pattern as my body shakes and my toes curl. When I regain consciousness he
bringshismouthbackuptomine,astrangetasteonhislips.Mychestisheaving
andmybreathisstaggered.
“Areyou...”hebegins.
“Shh...Yes,Iamsure,”Itellhimandkisshim,hard.Myhandsclawathis
back,thenpullhisboxersbelowhiships.Hesighsastherestrictiondisappears,
andwebothmoanasourskintouchesagain.
“Tessa,I...”
“Shh...”Itellhimagain.IwantthismorethananythingandIdon’twant
himtokeeptalking.
“But,Tessa,Ineedtotellyousomething...”
“Shh. Hardin, please stop talking,” I beg and kiss him again. I grab his
erectionandslidemyhandupanddownitslength.Hiseyescloseandhesucks
inasharpbreath.InstincttakesovermyactionsandIbrushmythumboverthe
tipofhim,wipingawaythedampnessthereandfeelinghimpulseinmyhand.
“I’mgoingtocomeifyoudothatagain,”hegasps.Suddenlyhepullsupand
jumpsoffthebed.BeforeIcanaskwhereheisgoing,hepullsoutasmallpacket
fromhisjeans.
Oh.Thisisreallyhappening.
IknowIshouldbeafraidornervous,butallIfeelismyloveforhim,andhis
forme.
Theanticipationofwhatiscomingnextfillsmewithwonder,andtimeseems
toslowdownwhileIwaitforhimtoreturntothebed.Ihadalwaysthoughtmy
firsttimewouldbewithNoah,onourweddingnight.Wewouldbeinahugebed
insomefancybungalowonatropicalisland.ButhereIamin mysmalldorm
room,onmysmallbedwithHardin,andIwouldnotchangeasinglethingabout
it.
chapterseventy-eight
Ihaveonlyeverseencondomsinsexedclass,wheretheyseemedsointimating.
Butrighthere,rightnow,IjustwanttoyankitoutofHardin’shandandputiton
himasfastasIcan.IamthankfulthatHardincan’thearmyindecentthoughts,
evenifhiswordsarefardirtierthananythoughtI’veeverhad.
“Are...”Hisvoiceislow.
“IfyouaskifIamsure,Iwillkillyou.”
Hesmilesandlaughs,wavingthecondombetweenhisthumbandforefinger.
“Iwasgoingtosay,areyougoingtohelpmeputthison,orshouldIdoit?”
I bite my lip. “Oh. I want to . . . but you have to show me how,” I say,
realizingthatlearningaboutcondomsinsexedreallydidn’tpreparemeforhow
thismomentfeels,andIdon’twanttomessthisup.
“Okay.”HesitsonthebedandIsitupcross-legged.Stretchingouttome,he
kisses me swiftly on my forehead. When he tears the packet open, I hold my
hand out, but he just chuckles and shakes hishead. “I’ll show you, this way.”
Takingmyhand,hepullsoutthelittlediskandusesourentwinedhandstoplace
thecondomabovehim. It feelsslipperytothe touch. “Nowitgoesdown,” he
says,hischeeks flushed. As bothofour hands slidethecondomover his hard
skin,hiseyesnarrowandhegrowsalittlelarger.
“Thatwasn’tsobadforavirginandadrunk,”Ijoke.
Heraisesaneyebrowatmeandsmiles.Iamgladwearebeingplayfulandnot
sointense;itmakesmelessnervousforwhatisabouttohappen.
“I’mnotdrunk,babe.Ihadafewdrinks,butarguingwithyousoberedmeup,
asusual.”Heflasheshisdimplesandrunshisthumbacrossmybottomlip.
I’m relieved by his answer. It’s not like I want him passing out halfway
throughorpukingonme.Ilaughalittleatmythoughtsandlookathimagain.
Hiseyesareclear,notglazedliketheywereanhourago.
“Nowwhat?”IsaybeforeIcanstopmyself.
He laughs, taking my hand and wrapping it around his length. “Eager?” he
teasesandInod.“Metoo,”headmits,andIlovethefeelofhishardfleshinmy
hand. Shifting his body, he hovers over me. With one knee he parts my legs,
spreadingthemwide,andIfeelhisfingersrubagainstme.
Iwonderifhewillbegentlewithme...Ihopeso.
“You’re soaking wet, so that will make it easier.” He inhales. His lips meet
mine and he kisses me slowly, his tongue teasing mine. His lips seem to be
molded against mine, made just for me. Pulling back slightly, he kisses the
cornersofmymouth,followedbymynose,andthenmylipsagain.Myhands
gotohisbackinadesperateattempttopullhimclosertome.
“Slow,baby,weneedtogoslow,”hewhispersagainstmyearlobe.“It’sgoing
tohurtatfirst,sojusttellmeifyouwantmetostop.Imeanit,okay?”hesays
gentlyandlooksstraightintomyeyes,waitingformyanswer.
“Okay.”Igulp.Ihaveheardthatlosingyourvirginityhurtsbutitcan’tbethat
bad.Ihopenot,atleast.
Hardinkissesmeagain.Ifeelthesilkycondombrushagainstme,causingme
toshudder.Secondslaterhepressesintome...
It’ssuchaforeignfeeling...MyeyesscrewshutandIhearmyselfgasp.
“Youokay?”
I nod and he moves farther into me. I wince at the pinching feeling deep
inside.It’sjustasbadaseveryonesays—ifnotworse.
“Fuck,” Hardin groans. His body is still, unmoving, but it’s still incredibly
uncomfortable.
“CanImove?”Hisvoiceissostrainedandraspy.
“Yeah,”Isay.Thepaincontinues,butHardinkissesmeallover,mylips,my
cheeks,mynose,myneck,andthetearsformingatthecornerofmyeyes.Iput
myfocusonsqueezingHardin’sarmsandfeelinghiswarmtongueonmyneck.
“OhGod,”hemoansandrollshisheadback.“Iloveyou,Iloveyousomuch,
Tess.”Hebreathesagainstmy cheek.Thecomfortofhisvoicemutesmypain
slightly,butitpersistsashishipsslowlyrollagainstmine.
IwanttotellhimhowmuchIlovehim,butIamafraidifItalk,Iwillcry.
“Doyou . . . fuck . . .do you wantme tostop?” he stutters. I canhear the
pleasureandworrybattlinginhisvoice.
I shake my head and watch him in amazement when his eyes close tightly
again.Hisjawisclenchedinconcentration;hishardmusclescontractandpull
beneathhis inkedskin. Thepain almost completelydisappears asI watchhim
comingundone.Hebrushesmycheekbonewithhisfingersandkissesmeagain
beforeburyinghishead in thecrookof my neck.Hisbreathis staggering, hot
andwildagainstmyskin.Bringinghisfacetomine,heopenshiseyes.Iwould
take the pain over and over to be able to feel this way, this deep-seated
connection to Hardin that takes me somewhere I never knew existed. The
emotioninhisbrilliantgreeneyesashelooksintomineunleashesthetearsfrom
myeyes;itsends mereelingoutintotheoblivionandthentethersmebackto
him.IlovehimandIknowwithoutadoubthelovesme.Evenifwedon’tlast
forever, if we end up never speaking again, I will always know that in this
momenthewaseverythingtome.
Icantellthatit’stakingeverythinginhimtocontrolhimself,tokeepthisslow
paceforme,andIlovehimallthemoreforit.Timeslowsandstops,speedsand
stopsagainashemovesinandoutofme.Thesaltytasteofsweatisonhislips
ashekissesme,andIwantmore.IkisshisneckandthespotunderhisearthatI
knowdriveshimcrazy.
Heshiversandmoansmyname.“You’redoingsogood,baby.Iloveyouso
much.”
Itdoesn’thurtanymore,butitisstilluncomfortable,andthereisaslightsting
eachtimehethrustsintome.Mylipsmovetohisneckandmyhandstugathis
hair.
“Iloveyou,Hardin,”Imanagetosay.
Hemoansandbringshisswollenlipstomine.“Oh,baby,Iamgoingtocome.
Okay?”hesaysthroughclenchedteeth.
Inodandkisshisneckagain,suckinggentlyonhisskin.Hardin’seyesnever
leavemineashecomes;promisesofforeverandunconditionallovearemadeas
hetensesandgentlyfallsontome.Icanfeeltheheavythrummingofhisheart
against my chest, and I kiss the top of his dampened hair. His chest stops
heavingandheliftsup,pullingoutofme.Iwinceatthesuddenemptinessashe
pulls the condom off and folds it over and places it on the floor atop the foil
wrapper.
“Areyouokay?Howwasit?Howdoyoufeel?”Hiseyessearchmyfaceand
helooksmorevulnerablethanIthoughtpossible.
“I’mokay,”Iassurehim.Ipressmythighstogethertodulltheache.Icansee
thebloodonmysheets,butIdon’twanttomove.
He wipes his hair away from his forehead. “Was it . . . was it what you
expected?”
“Itwasbetter,”Ianswerhonestly.Evenwiththe pain,thewholeexperience
wasexquisite.Ifindmyselfalreadyfantasizingaboutthenexttime.
“Really?”Hegrins.Inodandheleanscloser,pressinghisforeheadtomine.
“Howwasitforyou?ItwillbebetteronceIhavemore...experience,”Itell
him.
His grin fades and he presses his fingers under my chin, tilting my head to
makemelookathim.“Don’tsaythat;itwasgreat,baby.Itwasbetterthangreat,
itwas...thebest,”hesaysandIrollmyeyes.Iamsurehehasbeenwithfar
bettergirlswhoactuallyknowwhattodoandwhentodoit.
Answering my thoughts, he says, “I didn’t love them. It is a completely
different experience when you love the person. Honestly, Tessa. It’s
incomparable. Please don’t doubt yourself or degrade what we just did.” His
voice is so soft and sincere, I feel my heart swell and I kiss the bridge of his
nose.
He smiles and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to his chest. He
smellssogood;evensweatyHardinismyfavoritescent.
“Doesithurt?”Herunshisfingersthroughmyhairandtwirlsapieceoverhis
indexfinger.
“Sortof.”Ilaugh.“I’mafraidtostandup.”
Hesqueezesmetighterandkissesmyshoulder.“I’veneverbeenwithavirgin
before,”hesaysquietly.
I look up at him and his eyes are soft, not mocking in the least. “Oh.” My
mindproducesahundredquestionsabouthisfirsttime.Thewhen,where,who,
and why. But I push those thoughts away—he didn’t love her. He has never
lovedanyonebutme.Idon’tcareaboutthewomeninhispastanymore.They
arejustthat:hispast.Ionlycareaboutthisbeautiful,flawedmanwhojustmade
loveforthefirsttimeinhislife.
chapterseventy-nine
Anhourlater,Hardinasks,“Areyoureadytogetup?”
“IknowIshould,Ijustdon’twantto,”Itellhimandrubmycheekagainsthis
chest.
“Idon’twanttorushyou,butIreallyhavetopiss,”hetellsmeandIlaugh,
climbingoffhimandthebed.
“Ow...”IsaybeforeIcanstopmyself.
“You okay?” he asks for the thousandth time. His hand reaches out to help
steadyme.
“Yeah,justsore.”IcringewhenIlookatmysheets.
Helooksoveratthem.“Yeah,I’lltossthem.”Hepullsthesheetsoffthesmall
bed.
“Notinhere.Stephwillseethem.”
“Okay?Sowhere?”Hebouncesupanddownonhisheels.Hemusthavebeen
holdinghisbladderforawhile.
“Idon’tknow...canyouputtheminaDumpsterorsomethingwhenyou
leave?”
“Who said I was leaving? So, what—you sleep with me and then kick me
out?” His eyes dance with amusement. He grabs his jeans and boxers off the
floorandputsthemon.Igrabhisshirtandholditouttohim.
Ismackhimonthebutt.“Justgopee,andtakethesheetsoutonyourway,
justincase.”Idon’tknowwhyIcaresomuch,butthelastthingIneedisSteph
drillingmeforinformationaboutlosingmyvirginity.
“Sure.Iwon’tlooklikeacreeporanything,carryingbloodysheetstomycar
atnight.”
Iscowlathimandheballsthesheetsupandwalkstothedoor.“Iloveyou,”
hesaysbeforewalkingout.
NowthathehaslefttheroomIhavealittletimetocollectmyself.Iwonderif
I look as good as I feel, which is warm and oddly at peace. The memory of
Hardinhoveringovermewhileheenteredmemakesmystomachclench.NowI
know why people make such a big deal about sex. I really have been missing
out,butIknowthatifmyfirsttimewouldn’thavebeenwithHardin,itwouldn’t
havebeen so amazing.When I lookin the mirror, mymouthfalls open atmy
reflection.Mycheeksareglowing,mylipsareswollen.Isquishmycheeksand
movemyhandsaround;somehowIlookdifferent.It’stheslightestofchanges,
andIcan’tquiteputmyfingeronit,butIlikeit.Itakeasecondtoadmirethe
smallred marksdotted across my breasts. I don’teven remember himmaking
them.Mymindtakesmebacktohimmakinglovetome,hismouthhotandwet
againstmyflesh.Iamsnappedfrommythoughtsbythedooropening,causing
metojumpslightly.
“Admiringyourself?”Hardinsmirksandlocksthedoor.
“No...I...”Idon’tknowwhattosay,sinceI’mjuststandinginfrontofthe
mirrorcompletelynaked,fantasizingabouthislipsonmyskin.
“It’scool,babe,ifIhadyourbodyIwouldstareatmyselfinthemirror,too,”
hesaysandIflush.
“IthinkI’mgoingtotakeashower,”Itellhimwhiletryingmybesttocover
myselfwithmyhands.Idon’twanttowashhisscentoffmybody,butIneedto
washeverythingelseoff.
“I’ll take one, too,” he says. I raise an eyebrow at him and he holds up his
handsmockingly.“Nottogether,Iknow.However...ifwelived togetherwe
could.”
Something has changed in him, too, I can see it. It’s the way his smileis a
littledeeperandhiseyesbrighter.Idon’treckonthatanyoneelsewouldbeable
tospotit,butIknowhimbetterthananyone,despitethemanysecretsofhisthat
Iplantouncover.
“What?”Hecockshisheadtotheside.
“Nothing,Ijustlove you,” Itellhimand his cheeksreddenslightlyand his
facesplitsinto agrin, mirroring mine.Webothseem tobe giddy andhigh on
eachother.Ilovethis.WhenImovetograbmyrobe,hestepsinfrontofme.
“Haveyouatleastthoughtaboutlivingwithme?”heasks.
“Youjustaskedmeyesterday.Icanonlymakeonelife-alteringdecisionata
time.”Ilaugh.
Herubshistemples.“Ijustwanttosignthepaperworksoon.Ihavegottoget
outofthatdamnedfrathouse.”
“Youcouldjustgetitonyourown?”Isuggestagain.
“Iwantittobeours.”
“Why?”
“BecauseI want to spend as much time withyou as I can. Why are you so
hesitant?Isitthemoney?Iwouldpayeverything,ofcourse.”
“Noyouwouldn’t,”Iscoff.“IfIwastoagreetothis,Iwouldcontribute—I’m
notlookingforafreeride.”Ican’tbelieveweareactuallydiscussingthis.
“Thenwhatisit?”
“I don’t know . . . we haven’t known each other that long. I had always
thought I wouldn’t live with anyone else until I was married . . .” I explain.
That’snottheonlyreason;mymotherisahugereason,alongwiththefearof
havingtorelyonsomeoneelse.EvenHardin.That’swhatmymotherdid.She
reliedonmyfather’sincomeuntilheleft,andafterthatsheleanedontheslim
possibilityofhisreturn.Shealwaysexpectedhimtocomebackforus,buthe
neverdid.
“Married?That’sanancientideayouhavethere,Tessa.”Hechucklesandsits
downinthechair.
“What’s wrong with marriage?” I ask. “Not between us. Just in general,” I
add.
Heshrugs.“Nothingwrongwithit,it’sjustnotforme.”
This has taken too serious a turn. I don’t want to discuss marriage with
Hardin,butitdoesbothermethathesaysmarriageisn’tforhim.Ihaven’tever
thoughtaboutactuallymarryinghim,it’swaytooearlyforthat.Yearstooearly.
ButIwouldliketheoptioneventually,andwanttobemarriedbythetimeI’m
twenty-fiveandthenhaveatleasttwochildren.Ihavemywholefutureplanned.
Had, my subconscious reminds me. I had everything planned until I met
Hardinandnowmyfutureisconstantlychangingandshifting.
“Thatbothersyou,doesn’tit?”heasks,breakingmythoughts.
HardinandImakinglovehastiedaninvisiblestringbetweenus,unitingour
bodiesandminds.Thechangesinmyplansareforthebetter...right?
“No.”I try tohidethe emotioninmy voice, butit comes outheavy. “Ijust
haveneverheardanyonesayflat-outtheydon’twanttogetmarried.Ithought
that’swhateveryonewants—that’sthecentralpointoflife,right?”
“Notexactly.Ithinkpeoplejustwanttobehappy.ThinkofCatherine;look
whatmarriagebroughtherandHeathcliff.”
Ilove thatwe speak the same narrativelanguage. Thereis noone else who
wouldspeakinthiswaytome,thewaythatIunderstandthebest.
“Theydidn’tmarryeachother—thatwastheproblem,”Isaywithalaugh.I
think back to the time when there had been so many parallels between my
relationshipwithHardin,andCatherine’swithHeathcliff.
“RochesterandJane?”hesuggests.Hardin’smentionofJaneEyrepleasantly
surprisesme.
“You’rejoking,right?Hewascoldandwithholding.HealsoproposedtoJane
withouttellingherthathewasalreadymarriedtothatmadwomanhehadlocked
intheattic.Youaren’tmakingverymanyvalidpointshere,”Isay.
“Iknow.Ijustlovehearingyourambleaboutliteraryheroes.”Hebrushesthe
hairoffhisforehead,andinachildishmoment,Istickmytongueoutathim.
“Sowhatyou’resayingisthatyouwanttomarryme?IcanpromiseyouthatI
havenobat-crazywifehiddeninmyhouse.”Hetakesasteptowardme.There’s
nowife,sure,butit’stheotherthingshehidesthatworriesme.
Myheartisbeatingoutofmychestasheclosesthegapbetweenus.“What?
No, of course not. I was just speaking in terms of all marriage. Not us
specifically.”IamnakedandtalkingtoHardinaboutmarriage.Whatthehellis
happeninginmylife?
“Soyou’resayingyouwouldn’t?”
“No, I wouldn’t. Well, I don’t know—why are we even discussing this?” I
hidemyfaceinhischestandfeelhimshakewithamusement.
“I was just wondering. But now that you’ve presented me with a valid
argument,Imayhavetoreconsidermyno-marriagestance.Youcouldmakean
honestmanoutofme.”
Hesoundsserious,butthereisnowayheis.Right?JustasIbegintoquestion
hissanity,helaughsandkissesmytemple.
“Canwetalkaboutsomethingelse?”Igroan.Losingmyvirginityandtalking
aboutmarriageiswaytoomuchformymushybrain.
“Sure.ButIamnotdroppingtheapartmentthing;youhaveuntiltomorrowto
givemeananswer.Iwon’twaitforever,”hesays.
“Howsweet.”Irollmyeyes.
“Youknowme,Mr.Romantic,”hesaysandkissesmyforehead.“Now,let’s
getashower.Youstandingherenakedmakesmewanttothrowyouonthebed
andfuckyoualloveragain.”
Ishakemyheadandpulloutofhisembracebeforewrappingmyrobearound
mybody.“Areyoucomingorwhat?”Isayandgrabmytoiletrybag.
“I would love to come, but I guess a shower will have to do for now.” He
winksandIswathisarmaswewalkintothehall.
chaptereighty
Bythetimewebothtakeashowerandliebackinbedit’s almostfourinthe
morning.
“Ihavetobeupinanhour,”Igroanagainsthischest.
“Youcouldsleepuntilseventhirtyandstillmakeitontime,”heremindsme.
Rushing my morning doesn’t sound very appealing, but I do need the sleep.
Thankfully,Itookthatnap,soIhopefullywon’tbedeadonmyfeetduringmy
firstdayofactuallyworkingatVance.
“Mmm...”Imumbleagainsthisskin.
“I’llfixyouralarm,”hesaysandIdriftoff.
MYEYESAREBURNINGfromlackofsleepasItrytocurlmyunrulyhair.I
line my watery eyes with brown eyeliner and put on my new ruby dress. The
neckline is square and just low enough to accentuate my bust without being
immodest.Thehemendsjustabovemykneesandthesmallbrownbeltacross
mywaistgivestheillusionthatItooklongertogetreadythanIactuallydid.I
considerputtingonalittleblush,butthankstomynightwithHardin,mycheeks
arestillglowing.Islipintomynewshoesandcheckmyselfoutinthemirror.
The dress is quite flattering, and I look better than I deserve. I glance over at
Hardinwrapped inthe blanket on my tinybed, hisfeet danglingoffthe edge,
andIsmile.Iwaituntiltheverylastminutetowakehim.Iconsidernotwaking
himatall,butIamselfishandwanttokisshimgoodbye.
“Ihavetoleave,”Isayandgentlyshakehisshoulder.
“Iloveyou,”hemumblesandpuckershislipswithoutopeninghiseyes.“Are
yougoingtoclass?”IaskafterIkisshim.
“Nope,”hesaysandrollsbackover.
Iplaceanotherkissonhisshoulderandgrabmyjacketandpurse.Iwantto
crawlbackinbedwithhimsobadly.Maybelivingwithhimwouldn’tbesobad;
wespendalmosteverynighttogetheranyway.Ishakethethoughtfrommyhead.
It’sabadidea;it’stoosoon.Toosoon.
Still, I spend the entire drive imagining getting an apartment with Hardin,
pickingoutcurtainsandpaintingwalls.BythetimeIhittheelevatoratVance,
I’vealreadypickedouttheshowercurtainandbathmats,butwhentheelevator
reachesthethirdfloorayoungmaninadarknavysuitstepsonandbreaksmy
concentration.
“Hello,”hesaysandreachesfortheelevatorbuttons.Seeingthatthebutton
forthetopfloorhasalreadybeenpushed,heleansbackagainstthewallofthe
elevator.
“Areyounewhere?”heasks.Hesmellslikesoap,andhiseyesareacrispy
blue,whichisastrangecontrasttohisdarkhair.
“I’mjustanintern,”Itellhim.
“Justanintern?”Helaughs.
“Imean,Iamanintern,notanactualemployee,”Icorrectmyselfnervously.
“Istartedasaninternafewyearsagoandwashiredonfull-time.Doyougo
toWCU?”
“Yeah,didyou?”
“Yep, just graduated last year. Glad that’s over with.” He chuckles. “You’ll
likeithere.”
“Thanks,Ialreadyloveit,”Isayaswestepofftheelevator.
AsIgototurnthecorner,hesays,“Inevercaughtyourname.”
“Tessa,TessaYoung.”
He smiles and with a small goodbye wave says, “I’m Trevor. Nice to meet
you,Tessa.”
The same woman from yesterday is at the desk and this time introduces
herself as Kimberly. She smiles, wishes me good luck, and gestures toward a
tablefulloffoodandcoffee.Ismileandthankher,grabbingasprinkleddonut
andacupofcoffeebeforeIheadbacktomyoffice.OnmydeskIfindathick
pileofpaperwithanotefromMr.Vancetellingmetobeginmyfirstmanuscript
andgood luck. Ilove the freedom of thisinternship—I can’tbelieve my luck.
Diggingintomydonut,Ipluckthenoteoffthepaperandgettowork.
Themanuscriptisactuallyreallygood,andIcan’tseemtoputitdown.I’m
onlyathirdofthewayinwhenthephoneonmydeskrings.
“Hello?” I say, then realize I have no clue how to answer my own office
phone.Wantingtosoundmoregrown-up,Iadd,“Imean,TessaYoung’soffice.”
Ibitemylipandhearasmalllaughontheotherend.
“Ms.Young,thereissomeoneheretoseeyou.ShallIsendhimin?”Kimberly
asks.
“Tessa. Call me Tessa, please,” I tell her. It seems disrespectful to have her
callmeMs.Young;sheisfarmoreexperiencedandolderthanme.
“Tessa,” she says, and I can picture her friendly smile. “Should I send him
in?”sheasksagain.
“Ohyeah.Wait...whoisit?”
“I’mnotsure...youngguy...um...hehastattoos,lotsoftattoos,”she
whispersandIlaugh.
“Yeah,Iwillcomeouttogethim,”Itellherandhangup.
ThatHardinishereboththrillsmeandscaresme.Ihopeeverythingisokay.
WhenIwalkoutintothelobbyheisstandingwithhishandsinhispocketsand
Kimberlyisonthephone.Igetthefeelingthatsheisonlypretendingtobeon
the phone, I can’t tell for sure. I hope that it doesn’t seem like I am taking
advantageofthegreatopportunityMr.Vancehasgivenmebyhavingvisitorson
mysecondday.
“Hey,iseverythingokay?”Iapproachhim.
“Yeah,Ijustwantedtoseehowyourfirstfulldaywasgoing.”Hesmilesand
rollshiseyebrowringinhisfingers.
“Oh.It’sgreatI—”Ibegin,butstopwhenMr.Vancestridestowardus.
“Well. ..well...well... Cometogrovelforyourjobback?”Hesmiles
wideatHardinandpatshimontheshoulder.
“Youwish, youold wanker,” Hardin says, laughing, and my jawdrops. Mr.
Vance chuckles and raises his fist before playfully nudging Hardin in his ribs.
TheymustbecloserthanIthought.
“SowhatdoIowethehonor?Orareyouheretostalkmynewintern?”He
looksoveratme.
“Thesecond.Stalkinginternsismyfavoritepastime.”Ilookbackandforth
betweenthem, unsurewhat to say.I loveseeing this playful side to Hardin; it
doesn’tcomeoutmuch.
“Doyouhave time togetsomelunch, if youhaven’talready?”Hardinasks
me.Myeyesdarttotheclockonthewall;it’salreadynoon.Thedayhasgone
byquickly.
IlookatMr.Vanceandheshrugs.“Youhaveanhoureachdayforlunch.A
girl’s got to eat!” He smiles and says goodbye to Hardin before disappearing
downthehall.
“Itextedyouafewtimestomakesureyougothere,butyoudidn’tanswer,”
Hardintellsmewhenwestepontotheelevator.
“I haven’t looked at my phone, I got sucked into a story,” I tell him and I
reachforhishand.
“You’reokay,right?Weareokay?”heasks,hiseyeslockedintomine.
“Yeah,whywouldn’twebe?”
“I . . . I don’t know . . . I was just getting worried because you weren’t
answeringme.Ihadthought...maybeyouwerestartingtoregretlastnight.”
Helooksdown.
“What? Of course not. I honestly didn’t check my phone. I have no regrets
fromlastnight,notasingleone.”Ican’thidemysmileasthememoriesinvade
mythoughts.
“Good.Well,that’sadamnrelief.”Heletsoutabreath.
“YoudroveallthewayherebecauseyouthoughtIwashavingregrets?”Iask.
It’salittleextreme,butflatteringallthesame.
“Yeah...well,notcompletely.Ialsowantedtotakeyoutolunch.”Hesmiles
andliftsmyhandtohislips.
Westepofftheelevatorandwalkoutside.Ishouldhavebroughtmyjacket.I
shiverandHardinlooksovertome.
“Ihaveajacketinmycar.Wecangrabit,thenwalkaroundthecornertoBrio
—it’sreallygood.”Wewalktohiscarandhepullsablackleatherjacketoutof
his trunk, which makes me laugh. He must have an entire wardrobe in there.
EversinceImethimhe’sbeenpullingclothesoutofthattrunk.
The jacket is surprisingly warm and smells like Hardin. It engulfs me, of
course,soIshakemyarmstopushthesleevesup.
“Thankyou.”Ikisshimonhisjaw.
“Itlooksgoodonyou—perfectfit.”
He takes my hand as we walk down the sidewalk; we earn a few strange
glances from the businessmen and -women on the streets. Sometimes I forget
howdifferentweappearontheoutside.Wearepolaroppositesinalmostevery
way,butsomehowitworksforus.
Brio is a small but quaint Italian place. The floor is covered in beautiful
multicolored tiles and the ceiling is a mural of heaven, with chubby smiling
cherubs waiting outside white gates, and a pair of angels—one white and one
black—lockedinanembracebeyondthem.Thewhiteangelseemstobetrying
topulltheotherthroughthegatestotheotherside.
“Tess?”Hardinsaysandpullsmebythesleeve.
“Coming,”Imumbleandwewalktothetable,whichissetinthebackofthe
restaurant.Hardinsitsinthechairrightnexttomeinsteadofacross,pullinghis
chaircloserandrestinghiselbowsonthetable.Heordersforbothofus,butI
don’tmindsincehe’sbeenherebefore.
“SoyouandMr.Vancearereallyclose,then?”Iask.
“Iwouldn’tsaythat.Butweknoweachotherwellenough.”Heshrugs.
“Youseemedtoreallygetalong,Ilikeseeingyouthatway.”
Thehintofasmiletugsathislipsandheputshishandonmythigh.“Doyou
now?”
“Yes, I like to see you happy.” I feel like there is more behind his and Mr.
Vance’srelationshipthanheistellingme,butfornowIamnotgoingtopushit.
“Iamhappy.HappierthanIthoughtIwouldbe...ever,”headds.
“What has gotten into you? You’re getting soft on me,” I tease and he
chuckles.
“Icanknockoverafewtables,bloodyafewnosestoremindyou,”hesays
andIpushmyshoulderintohis.
“No,thanks.”Igiggle.
Our food arrives and I thank the waitress. The food looks amazing, and I
inhale the great aromas before taking a bite. Hardin ordered us some sort of
ravioli,andit’sdelicious.
“Good,huh?”hebragsandfillshismouthwithfood.Inodanddothesame.
Afterwe’refinished,HardinandIbickeraboutwhoisgoingtopayforlunch,
butheendsupwinning.
“Youcanpaymebacklater.”Hewinksbehindthewaitress’sback.
WhenwewalkbacktoVP,Hardinfollowsmeinside.“You’recomingup?”I
askhim.
“Yeah,Iwantedtoseeyouroffice,thenIwillgo.Promise.”
“Deal,”Itellhimandwestepontotheelevator.WhenwereachthetopfloorI
givehimhisjacketbackandheshrugsiton.Myeyeswidenathowhothelooks
intheleather.
“Hey,it’syouagain.”Theguyinthenavysuitsaysaswewalkdownthehall.
“Andit’syouagain.”Ismile.
HiseyesdarttoHardin,whointroduceshimself.
“Nice to meet you. My name is Trevor; I work in finance.” He give a little
wave,thensays,“Well,seeyouaround,”andwalksaway.
When we walk into my office Hardin grabs my wrist and turns me to face
him.“Whatthehellwasthat?”hespitsout.
Ishejoking?Ilookdownatmywristinhishandandtakethatasano.His
gripisn’ttight,butitholdsmeinplace.
“What?”
“Thatguy?”
“Whatabouthim?Ijustmethimthismorningintheelevator.”Ipullmywrist
away.
“Itdidn’tseemlikeyoujustmet;thetwoofyouwerejustflirtinginfrontof
me.”
I can’t help it, but I let out a laugh that’s more like a bark. “What?You’re
insane if you think that was flirting. I was being polite and so was he. Why
wouldIflirtwithhim?”Itrytokeepmyvoicedown.Causingascenewillnot
begoodforme.
“Whywouldn’tyou?Hewasniceandclean-cut,suitandall,”Hardinsays.
Irealizethatheseemsmorehurtandworriedthanangry.Myinstinctstellme
tocusshimoutandtellhimtogetthehellout,butIdecidetotakeadifferent
approach.Justlikewhenhewasbreakingthingsathisfather’shouse.
“Isthatwhatyouthink?ThatIwantsomeonelikehim,someoneunlikeyou?”
Iaskinagentlevoice.
Hardinopenshiseyeswide,takenaback.Iknowheexpectedmetoblowup
athim,butthischangeofpaceslowshimdownandhecontemplateswhattosay
next.“Idon’tknow...maybe.”Hiseyesmeetmine.
“Well,you’rewrong,asusual.”Ismile.Ineedtotalktohimaboutthislater,
butmyneedtomakesureheknowshehasnothingtoworryaboutoverpowers
myneedtocorrecthim.
“Iamsorryifyou thinkIwasflirtingwithhim,butI wasn’t.Iwouldn’tdo
thattoyou,”Iassurehim.HiseyessoftenandIbringmyhanduptohischeek.
Howcanonepersonbesostrongyetsoweak?
“I...Okay,”hesays.
Ilaughandcaresshischeek.Ilovecatchinghimoffguard.“Whatishe,when
Ihaveyou?”
Hiseyesflutterandhefinallysmiles.IamrelievedthatIamlearninghowto
disengagethebombthatisHardin.“Iloveyou,”hesaysandpresseshislipsto
mine.“Iamsorryforblowinguplikethat.”
“Iacceptyourapology; now letmeshowyou my office!”Isayina cheery
voice.
“Idon’tdeserveyou,” he saysquietly, tooquietly. I choose toignore it and
keepmyupliftingattitude.
“Sowhatdoyouthink?”Ibeam.
HechucklesandlistensintentlyasIshowhimeverydetail,everybookonthe
shelfandtheemptypictureframeonmydesk.
“IwasthinkingIwanttoputapictureofushere,”Itellhim.
We have never taken any pictures together, and the thought hadn’t even
crossedmyminduntilIplacedtheemptyframethere.Hardindoesn’tseemlike
thetypewhowouldsmileforacamera,evenonacellphone.
“Oh.Idon’treallydopictures,”hesays,confirmingmythoughts.
ButwhenheseesI’malittleembarrassedbybeingshutdown,hestrainsto
say,“Imean...IguessIcouldtakeone.Justone,though.”
“Let’sworryaboutthatlater.”Ismileandheseemsrelieved.
“Nowcanwemoveontohowsexyyoulookinthatdress.It’sbeendriving
mecrazysinceIgothere.”Hisvoiceisafulloctavedeeperandhetakesastep
towardme.Mybodyheatsimmediately;hiswordsneverceasetounravelme.
“You’reluckyIdidn’topenmyeyesthismorning.IfIhad...”Hetraceshis
fingertipsalongthenecklineofmydress.“Iwouldn’thaveletyouleave.”
Hebringshisotherhandtothehemofmydressandcaressesmythigh.
“Hardin...”Iwarn.Myvoicebetraysmeandcomesoutasmoreofamoan.
“What,babe...youdon’twantmetodothis?”Heliftsmeupandsitsmeon
theedgeofmydesk.
“It’s . . .” My thoughts are clouded by his lips against my neck. I dig my
fingersintohishairandhenipsatmyskin.“Wecan’t...someonecouldcome
in...or something.”Thewordsarejumbledanddon’tmakemuchsense.He
putshishandsonmythighsandopensthemfarther.
“Thereisalockonthedoorforareason...Ireallywanttotakeyouright
here,onthisdesk.Ormaybeagainstthewindow.”Hismouthtravelsloweron
mychest.Theideaofwhatheisproposingsendselectricitythroughmybody.
Hisfingersbrushoverthelaceonmypantiesandhesucksabreaththroughhis
teeth.
“You’rekillingme,”hegroansashelooksbetweenmylegstoseethewhite
lacesetIboughtyesterday.Ican’tbelieveIamlettingthishappen,onadeskin
mynewofficeontheseconddayofmyinternship.Theideathrillsmeasmuch
asitterrifiesme.
“Lockthe—”Ibegin,butweareinterruptedbytheshrillringofmyphone.I
jumpstraightupandscramblearoundthedesktograbit.“Hello?TessaYoung
speaking!”
“Ms.Young.Tessa,”Kimberlycorrectsherself.“Mr.Vanceisleavingforthe
dayandisonhiswaytoyouroffice,”shesayswithahintofamusementinher
voice.
Iflushandthankher.ClearlyshecansensehowirresistibleHardinistome.
chaptereighty-one
HardinleavesshortlyafterheandMr.Vancefinishbickeringabouta football
game. I apologize for having a visitor, but he brushes it off, telling me that
Hardinislikefamilyandheiswelcometocomebyanytime.VisionsofHardin
makinglovetomeonthedesktakeovermyimaginationandMr.Vancehasto
repeatwhathesaidnextaboutpayrollthreetimesbeforeIcomebacktoreality.
IgobacktoreadingthemanuscriptandIamsointoitthatIdon’trealizeit’s
afterfivewhenIlookupagain.Iamanhourlatetoleaveandhaveamissedcall
fromHardin.WhenIgettomycarIcallhimback,buthedoesn’tanswer.Idrive
backthroughmoderatetraffic,andwhenIgettomyroom,I’msurprisedtosee
Stephonherbed.Ialmostforgetsheliveshere,too,sometimes.
“Longtimenosee,”Ijokeanddropmypurseandpulloffmyheels.
“Yeah...”shesaysandsniffles.
“Areyouokay?Whathappened?”Isitonherbedwithher.
“IthinkTristanandIbrokeup.”Shesobs. It isastrangesightto see Steph
crying—she’susuallysostrongandsassy.
“Why?Whatdoyoumeanyouthink?”Iaskandputmyhandonherbackto
comforther.
“Well,wegotinafightandIbrokeupwithhim,butIdidn’tmeanit.Idon’t
knowwhyIdidit—IwasjustpissedbecausehewassittingwithherandIknow
howsheis.”
“Who?”Iask,eventhoughIsomehowalreadyknow.
“Molly.Youshouldhaveseenhowshewasflirtingwithhimandhangingon
hiseveryword.”
“Butsheknowsyoutwoaretogether;isn’tsheyourfriend?”
“Shedoesn’tcareaboutthat.She’lldoanythingtogetmaleattention.”AsI
watchSteph cry and wipe her eyes, my alreadystrong dislikeof Molly grows
evenmore.
“I don’t think Tristan would go for her; I see the way he looks at you. He
reallycaresaboutyou.Ithinkyoushouldcallhimandtalkitout,”Isuggest.
“Whatifheiswithher?”
“He’snot,”Iassureher.Ireallydon’tseeTristanrunningoffwiththepink-
hairedsnake.
“Howdoyouknow?Sometimesyouthinkyouknowpeople,butyoudon’t,”
shesaysandlooksintomyeyes.“H—”
“Hey...” Hardin says asheburstsintothe room andthentakesinthe sad
scene before him. “Um . . . should I come back?” He shifts uncomfortably.
Hardinisn’tthetypetocomfortacryinggirl,friendornot.
“No,IamgoingtogofindTristanandtrytoapologize.”Shestands.“Thank
you,Tessa.”ShehugsmeandlooksatHardin.Theyexchangeawkwardglances
beforesheexitstheroom.
Hardinturnsandgivesmeakiss.“Youhungry?”
“Yeah, actually I am,” I tell him. I should do some homework, but I’m
actually pretty far ahead. I really have no idea how or when Hardin actually
works.
“I was thinking that after we get something to eat, you could call Karen or
Landon and see what I should wear to the . . . you know. The wedding.” The
mention of Landon’s name tugs at my heart. I haven’t talked to him in a few
days and I miss him. I want to tell him about my internship and maybe even
aboutHardinandme.Ihaven’tdecidedthatyet,butIstillwanttotalktohim.
“Yeah,I’llcallLandon.I’mexcitedforthewedding!”Itellhim,thenrealizeI
needtogetsomethingtoweartotheweddingaswell.
“Yeah.Me,too.Iamsothrilled.CouldIbemoreexcited?”Herollshiseyes
andIlaugh.
“Well,I’mgladyou’reatleastgoing.ItmeansalottoyourfatherandKaren.”
He shakes his head, but he’s come a long way in the short time that I’ve
knownhim.
“Yeah...yeah.Let’sgoeat,”hegrumblesandgrabsmyjacketoffthechair.
“Letmechange first,geez,”I groan. Ifeel his eyeson me asI undress and
grabjeansandaWCUsweatshirtoutofmydresserandputthemonquickly.
“You look adorable. Sexy office woman by day and cute college girl by
night,”heteases.MystomachfluttersathiswordsandIleanuponmytoesto
kisshischeek.
WEDECIDETOGOtothemallandeatsothatwecangoshoppingafterward.I
call Landon as we sit down and he tells me that he will ask his mother what
Hardinshouldwearandcallmerightback.
“Wecanfindyouroutfitfirst,Iguess?”hesuggests.
“Idon’tknowwhattoweareither.”Ilaugh.
“Well,youhavetheluxuryoflookingbeautifulregardlessofwhatyouwear.”
“Thatisnottrue;youdefinitelypulloffthat‘Idon’tgiveacraphowIlook
butIlookflawless’look.”
Hegivesmeacockysmirkandleansbackinhischair.“Ido,don’tI?”
Irollmyeyesandthennoticemyphonebuzzing.“It’sLandon.”
“Hey,”Landonsays,“soshesaiditwouldbebestifyouwearwhite.Iknow
it’snotthenorm,butthat’swhatmymotherwants.AndatleasttrytogetHardin
indresspantsandatie.Idon’tthinktheyareexpectingmuchfromhim,tobe
honest.”Helaughs.
“Okay,well,Iwilldomybesttogethiminatie.”IlookoveratHardin,who
frownscomically.
“Goodluck.How’syourinternshipgoing?”
“It’s good. Well, great, actually. It’s a dream come true. I can’tbelieve it. I
havemyownofficeandIbasicallygetpaidtoreadallday.It’sperfect.Howare
classes?ImissLiterature.”
Hardin’sfaceturnsintoarealfrown,andIfollowhiseyestothemiddleofthe
food court. Zed, Logan, and a guy that I have never met before are walking
towardus. Zed gives me a friendly waveand Ismile beforethinking aboutit.
Hardinglaresatmeandstandsup.
“I’llberightback,”hesaysandwalksoffintheirdirection.Itrytocontinue
myconversationwithLandon and watchHardinat the sametime,butI’m not
surewhattodo.
“Yeah,itisn’tthesamewithoutyou,butI’msohappyforyou.AtleastHardin
hasn’tbeeninclasssoIdon’thavetodealwithhim,”Landonsays.
“Whatdoyoumeanhehasn’tbeeninclass?Well,besidestoday.Hewasthere
yesterday.Right?”
“No,Ifiguredhedroppedagainsinceyouleftandheobviouslycan’tbemore
thantenfeetawayfromyouatalltimes,”heteasesandmyheartwarmsdespite
myconcernoverhismissingclasses.
IlookoveratHardin,whohashisbacktome,butIcantellfromhowstiffhis
shouldersarethathe’stense.TheguywhoIdon’trecognizehasaslicksmileon
his face and Zed is shaking his head. Logan seems uninterested in them and
focusesoncheckingoutagroupofgirlswalkingby.Hardintakesasteptoward
theguyandIcan’ttelliftheyaremessingaroundornot.
“I’msosorry,Landon,butIwillcallyouback,”Isayandhangup.Leaving
ourtraysonthetable,Igoovertothem,hopinginthebackofmymindthatno
onemesseswithourfood.
“Hey, Tessa, how are you?” Zed asks and moves forward to hug me. I feel
myselfflushandpolitelyhughimback.IknowbetterthantolookupatHardin
whenourembraceends.Zed’shairisstickingstraightupinthefrontinavery
hot, messy way, and he’s wearing all black with this leather jacket that has
patchesalloverthefrontandback.
“Hardin, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” the stranger says. He
smilesanditgivesmechills.Icantellheisnotaniceguy.
“Um, yeah.” Hardin waves his hand between us. “This is my friend Tessa;
Tessa,thisisJace.”
Friend?IfeellikeIhavejustbeenkickedinthestomach.Itrymybesttohide
myhumiliationandsmile.
“DoyougotoWCU?”Iask.MyvoiceismuchmorecomposedthanIfeel
inside.
“Hell, no. I don’t do the college thing.” He chuckles coolly. “But if all the
girlstherelookedlikeyou,Iwouldbehappytoreconsider.”
IgulpandwaitforHardintosaysomething.Oh,right,Iamhisfriend.Why
wouldhe?IstaysilentandwishIhadjuststayedatthetable.
“Wearegoingtothedockstonight;youtwoshouldmakeanappearance,”Zed
says.
“We can’t. Maybe next time,” Hardin says. I contemplate interrupting and
sayingIcan,butIamtoopissed-offtospeak.
“Whynot?”Jaceasks.
“Shehastoworktomorrow.IsupposeIcandropbylater.Alone,”headds.
“That’stoobad.”Jacesmilesatme.Hissandyblondhairfallsoverhiseyes
andheshakeshisheadtomoveit.
Hardinclencheshisjawandlooksathim.IfeellikeI’mmissingsomething.
Whoisthisguy,anyway?
“Yeah, I’ll hit you up later when I’m on my way,” Hardin says and I stalk
away.
IhearHardin’sbootsstompingbehindmebutIkeepwalking.Hedoesn’tcall
myname, since I’msure hedoesn’twanthisfriends tothink anything, buthe
keepsfollowingme.IwalkfasteranddipintoMacy’sandturnasharpcorner,
hopingtolosehim.Nosuchluck;hegrabsmyelbowandturnsmetofacehim.
“Whatiswrong?”Hisannoyanceisobvious.
“Oh,Idon’tknow,Hardin!”Ishout.AnelderlywomanlooksatmeandIgive
heranapologeticsmile.
“Meeither!YouaretheonewhojusthuggedZed!”heyells.Wearealready
attractinganaudience,butIamfumingsoIdon’tcareatthemoment.
“Areyouembarrassedofmeorsomething?Imean,Igetit,Iamnotexactly
thecoolgirl,butIthought...”
“What?No!OfcourseI’mnotembarrassedofyou.Areyoucrazy?”hehuffs.
Ifeelcrazyatthemoment.
“Why did you introduce me as your friend? You keep talking about living
togetherandthenyoutellthemwearefriends?Whatareyougoingtodo,hide
me?Iwon’tbeanyone’ssecret.IfI’mnotgoodenoughforyourfriendstoknow
we’re together, then I don’t want to be.” I turn on my heel and walk away to
punctuatemylittlespeech.
“Tessa!Damn it .. .” hesays and followsme through thestore.I reachthe
dressingroomsandglanceatthem.
“Iwillfollowyou,”hesays,readingmythoughts.
Hewill,too.SoIturnandheadtowardtheexitofthestore.“Takemehome.
Now,”Idemand.IstayquietandatleasttenfeetaheadofHardinaswewalkout
of the mall and to his car. He moves to open the door for me but backs away
whenIglareathim.IfIwerehim,Iwouldkeepmydistance.
IstareoutthewindowandthinkofalltheterriblethingsIcouldsaytohim
but I stay silent. I’m mostly just embarrassed that he feels like he can’t tell
people we are together. I know I’m not like his friends and they probably all
thinkI am aloser or not cool enough, but that shouldn’tmatter tohim. I find
myself wondering if Zed would hide our relationship from his friends, and I
can’t help but think that he wouldn’t. Come to think of it, Hardin has never
actuallycalledmehisgirlfriend.Iprobablyshouldhavewaitedtosleepwithhim
untilheatleastconfirmedweweredating.
“Areyoudonethrowingafit?”heasksaswepullontothehighway.
“Afit?Youaren’tserious!”Myvoicefillshissmallcar.
“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you that I called you my friend;
that’snotwhatImeant.Iwasjustcaughtoffguard,”helies.Icantellheislying
bythewayhiseyesdartawayfrommine.
“Ifyouareembarrassedofme,thenIdon’twanttoseeyouanymore,”Isay.I
digmynailsintomylegtokeepfromcrying.
“Don’tsaythattome.”Herunshishandoverhishairandtakesadeepbreath.
“Tessa, why do you assume I am embarrassed of you? That is just fucking
ridiculous,”hegrowls.
“Havefunatyourpartytonight.”
“Please,I’mnotgoing,IjustsaidthatsoJacewouldlayoff.”
WhatIsaynextIknowisaterribleidea,butIwanttoproveapoint:“Ifyou
aren’tembarrassedofme,thentakemetotheparty.”
“Absolutelyfuckingnot,”hesaysthroughhisteeth.
“Exactly,”Isnap.
“IamnottakingyoutherebecauseJaceisadick,forone.Two,it’snotthe
kindofplaceyoushouldbe.”
“Whynot?Icanhandlemyself.”
“Jaceandhisfriendsarewayoutofyourleague,Tessa.Hell,they’reevenout
ofmyleague.Theyareallstonersandscum.”
“Thenwhyareyoufriendswithhim?”Irollmyeyes.
“Thereisabigdifferencebetweenbeingfriendlyandbeingfriends.”
“Well,whywouldZedhangoutwithhim,then?”
“Idon’tknow.Jaceisn’toneofthoseguysthatyousaynoto,”heexplains.
“Soyou’reafraidofhim.That’swhyyoudidn’tsayanythingwhenhecame
ontome,”Ipointout.JacemustbereallybadifHardinisafraidofhim.
Hardinsurprisesmebylaughing.“I’mnotafraidofhim.Ijustdon’twantto
provokehim.Helikesgames,andifIprovokedhimwithyouhewouldturnyou
intoagame.”Hisknucklesturnwhitefromhisgriponthesteeringwheel.
“Well,goodthingwe’rejustfriends,then,”Isayandlookoutthewindowat
the beautiful view of the city passing by. I’m not perfect; I know I’m acting
childishbutIcan’thelpit.KnowinghowbigacreepJaceis,IgetwhyHardin
didwhathedid,butthatdoesn’tmakeithurtless.
chaptereighty-two
Whenwegettotheroom,Iplopdownonthebed.IamstillangrywithHardin
but not as angry as I was. I don’t want any more attention from Jace than
necessary,butmeetinghimhasonlyraisedmorequestionsthatIknowHardin
doesn’twantmetoask.
“Ireallyamsorry.Ididn’tmeantohurtyourfeelings,”hesays.Idon’tlookat
himbecauseIknowIwillturntomush.HeneedstoknowthatIwon’tputup
withhimdoingthingslikethis.“Do...you...doyoustillwantme?”heasks,
hisvoiceshaky.
WhenIlookoverathim,Icanseehisvulnerability.Isigh,knowingIamnot
abletoholdontomyangerwhenhiseyesaresofullofworry.
“Yeah,of courseI do. Come here,” Itell himand pat thebed nextto me.I
havenowillpowerwhenitcomestothisman.
“Doyouconsidermeyourgirlfriend?”Iaskashesitsdown.
“Yeah.Imean,itjustseemsalittlesillytocallyouthat,”hesays.
“Silly?”Ipickatmyfingernails,abadhabitIhaveyettokick.
“Youaremoretomethansomeadolescenttitle.”Heputshislargehandson
bothsidesofmyface.Hisanswermakesmystomachflipinthebestway.Ican’t
helpthegrinthatisplasteredonmyface.Hisshouldersimmediatelyrelax.
“I don’tlike that you don’t want people to know about us—how would we
livetogetherifyouwon’teventellyourfriendsaboutus?”
“It’s not like that. Do you want me to call Zed right now and tell him? If
anything,youshouldbeembarrassedtobewithme.Iseethewaypeoplelookat
uswhenwearetogether,”hesays.Sohedoesnoticethewaypeoplelookatthe
twoofus.
“Theyonlystareat usbecausewelookdifferent,andthat’stheirproblem.I
wouldneverbeembarrassedtobeseenwithyou.Ever,Hardin.”
“Youhadmeworriedthatyouweregoingtogiveuponme,”hesays.
“Giveuponyou?”
“You’retheonlyconstantinmylife;youknowthat,don’tyou?Idon’tknow
whatIwoulddoifyouleftme,”hesays.
“Iwon’tleaveyouifyoudon’tgivemeareasonto,”Iassurehim,butIcan’t
think of a single thing he could do to make me leave him. I’m in too deep.
ThinkingofleavinghimsendsapainthroughmybodythatIcan’tbear.Itwould
breakme.Evenifwefighteverysingleday,Ilovehim.
“Iwon’t,”hesays.Helooksawayforasecond,thenmeetsmyeyesagain.“I
likewhoIamwithyou.”
Iturnmycheekintohishandfarther.“Ido,too.”
Ilovehim,everypartofhim.Allversionsofhim.Mostly,IlikewhoIhave
becomewithhim;wehavebothbeenchangedforthebetterbyeachother.Ihave
somehowgottenhimtoopenupandhavebroughthappinesstohim,andhehas
taughtmehowtoliveandnotworryabouteverydetail.
“IknowIpissyouoffsometimes...well,alotofthetime,andGodknows
youdrivemefuckinginsane,”hesays.
“Thanks?”
“I’mjustsaying,justbecausewefightdoesn’tmeanweshouldn’tbetogether.
Everyonefights.”Hesmiles.“Wejustfightmorethannormalpeople.YouandI
arevery differentpeople, so we’ll just have to figureout howto navigateone
another.Itwillgeteasier,”heassuresme.
Ireturnhissmileandrunmyfingersthroughhisdarkhair.
“Westilldidn’tgetanythingtoweartothewedding,”Ipointout.
“Ohdarn,lookslikewecan’tgo.” He turns his face into the mostinsincere
frownIhaveeverseenandkissesmynose.
“Youwish.It’sonlyTuesday.Wehaveallweek.”
“OrwecouldskipitandIcouldtakeyoutoSeattlefortheweekend?”Helifts
aneyebrow.
“What?”Isitup.“Imean,no!Wearegoingtothewedding,”Icorrectmyself.
“ButyoucouldtakemetoSeattlenextweekend.”
“Nope,offer’sonlygoodforalimitedtime,”heteasesandpullsmeontohis
lap.
“Fine,IguessI’llhavetofindsomeoneelsetotakemetoSeattle.”Hisjaw
tensesandItracemyfingertipsoverthestubbleonhischinandjaw.
“Youwouldn’tdare.”Hislipstwitchtoholdhissmile.
“Oh,Imostcertainlywould.Seattleismyfavoriteplace,afterall.”
“Yourfavoriteplace?”
“Yeah,Ihaven’treallybeenanywhereelse.”
“Whereisthefarthestplaceyou’vegone?”heasks.
Ilaymyheadonhischestandheliesbackagainsttheheadboard,wrapping
hisarmsaroundme.“Seattle.Ihaven’tleftWashington.”
“Ever?”heexclaims.
“Nope,never.”
“Whynot?”
“Idon’tknow,wejustcouldn’taffordtoaftermydadleft.Mymotherworked
allthetimeandIwastoofocusedonschoolandgettingoutofthattownthatI
didn’treallythinkofmuchelse,exceptworking.”
“Wherewouldyouwanttogo?”heasks,hisfingersrubbingupanddownmy
arm.
“Chawton.IwanttoseeJaneAusten’sfarmhouse.OrParis.Iwouldloveto
seewhereHemingwaystayedwhilehewasthere.”
“I knew you would say those places. I could take you there.” His tone is
serious.
“Let’sjuststartwithSeattle.”Igiggle.
“I mean it, Tessa. I could take you anywhere you want to go. Especially
England.Ididgrowupthere,afterall.Youcouldmeetmymumandtherestof
myfamily.”
“Um...”Iactuallyhavenothingtosay.Heissostrange,heintroducesmeas
his“friend”anhourago,andnowhe’stakingmetoEnglandtomeethismother.
“Let’sjuststartwithSeattle?”Ilaugh.
“Fine,butI know youwould love todrivethrough the Englishcountryside,
seethehouseAustengrewupin...”
Ican’timaginehow my motherwould reactto me leavingthe countrywith
Hardin. She would probably lock me in her attic and never let me out. I still
haven’tspokentohersinceshestormedoutofmydormafterthreateningmein
an attempt to get me to stop seeing Hardin. I want to avoid that inevitable
argumentforaslongasIcan.
“What’swrong?”heasksanddipshisheaddowninfrontofmyface.
“Nothing,sorry,Iwasjustthinkingofmymother.”
“Oh...she’llcomearound,babe.”Hesoundssosure,butIknowherbetter
thanthat.
“Idon’tthinkso,butlet’stalkaboutsomethingelse.”
Westarttalkingaboutthewedding,butHardin’sphonevibratesinhispocket
afteramoment.Ishiftoffhimsohecangetitout,buthemakesnomovetodo
so.
“Whoeveritiscanwait,”hesays,whichmakesmehappy.
“Willwebestayingatyourdad’shouseSaturdayafterthewedding?”Iask.I
needtogetmymindoffmymother.
“Isthatwhatyouwanttodo?”heasks.
“Yeah,Ilikeitthere.Thisbedistiny.”Icrinklemynoseandhelaughs.
“Wecouldstayatmyplacemoreoften.Whatabouttonight?”
“Ihavemyinternshipinthemorning.”
“So?Youcanbringyourstuffwithyouandgetreadyinanactualbathroom.I
haven’tbeentomyroominawhile;theyareprobablyalreadytryingtorentit
out,”hejokes.“Don’tyouwanttotakeashowerwithoutthirtyotherpeoplein
thesameroom?”
“Sold.”Ismileandclimboffthebed.
Hardin helps me pack my things for tomorrow and I grow more and more
excitedtogotothefrathouse.Ihatedthathouse,andstillprettymuchdo,but
the thought of a shower in an actual bathroom and Hardin’s large bed is too
appealingtopassup.Hegrabstheredsetoflingerieoutofmydresserandhands
ittomewithaseriesofeagernods,andIflushbeforeshovingitinmybag.I
packoneofmyoldblackskirtsandawhiteblouse,wantingtospaceoutmynew
dresses.
“Redbrawithwhite shirt?”Hardinpointsout.Ipullthewhiteshirtoutand
grabablueoneinstead.
“Youcouldbringextraclotheswithyousoyouwon’thavetobringsomuch
nexttime,”hesuggests.Hewantsmetokeepclothesathisplace.Ilovehowit’s
agiventhatwewillstaythenighttogethereverynight.
“IguessIcould,”Isayandgrabmynewwhitedressandafewotherrandom
things.
“Youknowwhatwouldmakeitmucheasier?”heasks,andpullsmybagover
hisshoulderasweheadoutside.
“What?”Ialreadyknowwhatheisgoingtosay.
“Ifwebothlivedatthesameplace.”Hesmiles.“Wewouldn’thavetodecide
whichplacetostayatandyouwouldn’thavetopackabag.Youwouldhavea
private shower every day—well, not totally private.” He winks playfully. And
justwhenIthinkhe’sdone,whenwegettohiscarandheopensthedoorforme,
headds,“Youcouldwakeupandmakeyourowncoffeeinourkitchenandget
ready for the day and we could meet up at our place at the end of every day.
Noneofthisroommateorfrathouseshit.”
Everytimehesays“our”mystomachflutters.ThemoreIthinkaboutit,the
betteritsounds.IamjustterrifiedofmovingtoofastwithHardin.Idon’twantit
toblowupinmyface.
Aswedrivetothehouse,heputshishandonmythighandagainsays,“Stop
overthinkingit.”Ihearhisphonevibratingagain,butheignoresit.ThistimeI
can’thelpbutbealittlesuspiciousofwhyheisn’tpickingupthephone,butI
pushthethoughtfrommyhead.
“Whatareyouafraidof?”heaskswhenIdon’trespond.
“I don’t know. What if something happens with my internship and I can’t
affordit?Orifsomethinghappenswithus?”
Hefrownsbutrecoversquickly.“Babe,IalreadytoldyouIwouldpayforthe
place.Itwasmyidea,andImakemore,soletmedothis.”
“I don’t care how much you make. I don’t like the idea of you paying for
everything.”
“Youcanpaycable,then?”Hesmirks.
“Cableandgroceries?”Ioffer.Ican’tdecideifIamspeakinghypothetically
anymoreornot.
“Deal.Groceries...thatsoundsnice,doesn’tit?Youcouldhavemydinner
readyeverynightwhenIgethome.”
“Excuseme?Itwouldbetheotherwayaround.”Ilaugh.
“Wecouldrotatedays?”
“Deal.”
“Soyou’removinginwithmethen?”Idon’tthinkIhaveeverseenadeeper
grinonhisperfectface.
“Ididn’tsaythat,Iwasjust...”
“YouknowIwilltakecareofyou,right?Always,”hepromises.
I want to tell him that I don’t want to be taken care of, that I want to earn
thingsandpayformyownshareofthings,butIgetthefeelingheisn’ttalking
justfinancially.
“Iamafraidthisistoogoodtobetrue,”IfinallyadmittoHardinandmyself.
Hesurprisesmebysaying,“Me,too.”
“Really?”Iamrelievedthathefeelsthesameway.
“Yeah,thethoughtcrossesmymindallthetime.Youaretoogoodformeand
Iamjustwaitingonyoutorealizeit,andhopingthatyoudon’t,”hesays,his
eyesfocusedontheroad.
“That’snotgoingtohappen.”AndImeanit.
Hedoesn’tsayanything.
“Okay.”Ibreakthesilence.
“Okaywhat?”
“Okay.Iwillmoveinwithyou.”Ismile.
He lets out a breath that sounds like he has been holding it for hours.
“Really?”Hisdimplespopasheshakeshisheadandflashesasmile.
“Yeah.”
“Youhave no idea what this means tome, Theresa.”He putshis hand over
mine and squeezes. Hardin turns onto his street and my mind races. We are
reallydoingthis,wearemovingintogether.MeandHardin.Alone.Allthetime.
In our own place. Our own bed. Our everything. I am scared as hell, but my
excitementisstrongerthanmynervousness,forthemomentatleast.
“Don’tcallmeTheresaorIwillchangemymind,”Itease.
“Yousaidonlyfriendsandfamilycancallyouthat.IthinkI’veearnedit.”
Heremembersthat?IthinkIsaidthatrightafterImethim.Igrin.“Pointwell
made.Callmewhateveryouwant.”
“Oh,babe,Iwouldn’tsaythatifIwereyou.Ihaveawholelistofperverted
thingsIwouldlovetocallyou.”Hissmileiswicked,andIfindmyselfwanting
to hear his dirty words, but I stop myself from asking and squeeze my legs
together.Hemustnotice,becausehissmilegrows.
JustasI’mcomingupwithalineabouthowpervertedheis,thewordsarelost
inmythroat.Pullinguptothehouse,weseethattheyardislitteredwithpeople
andthestreetisfullofcars.
“Damn it, I didn’t know they were having a party tonight. It’s fucking
Tuesday.See,thisistheshit—”
“It’sfine.Wecanjustgostraighttoyourroom,”Iinterrupt,tryingtodefuse
hisirritation.
“Fine,”hesighs.
When we walk into the crowded house, Hardin and I head straight for the
stairs.JustasIbegintothinkImadeitwithoutrunninginto anyoneIknow, I
spotamoundofgreasy,sandyblondhairatthetopofthestairs.Jace.
chaptereighty-three
HardinnoticesJacethesametimethatIdoandturnstolookatme,thenbackat
Jace, tensing immediately. For a second it seems like Hardin might turn us
around, but then Jace definitely spots us, and I know Hardin won’t risk
antagonizinghimbybackingawaynow.Allaroundus,thepartyrages,butallI
canfocusonisJace’smischievoussmile,whichflat-outgivesmethecreeps.
Aswereachthetopofthestairs,Jacegivesanexaggeratedlookofsurprise
andsays,“Didn’tthinkI’dseeyoutwohere,youknow,sinceyoucouldn’tmake
ittothedocksandall.”
“Yeah,wewerejustcominghere—”Hardinbegins.
“Oh, I get why you were coming here.” Jacesmiles and pats Hardin on his
shoulder.Icringeashisbrowneyesmovetome.“It’sdefinitelyapleasuretosee
youagain,Tessa,”hesayscoolly.
IglanceatHardin,butheistoofocusedonJacetonotice.“Yeah,you,too,”I
manage.
“Well,goodthingyoudidn’tcometothedocksanyway.Copscameandbroke
upourparty,sowemovedithere.”
MeaningthatJace’sslimyfriendsareheresomewhere—morepeopleHardin
doesn’tlike.Iwishwehadjuststayedatmydorm.BythelookinHardin’seyes
Icantellhewishesthesame.
“Thatsucks,man,”Hardinsaysandthentriestocontinueondownthehall.
Jace grabs Hardin’s arm and says, “You two should come down and have a
drinkwithus.”
“She doesn’t drink,” Hardin huffs, annoyance clear in his voice.
Unfortunately,thatannoyanceseemstoencourageJaceevenmore.
“Ohwell.Youshouldstillcomehavesomefun.Iinsist,”hesays.
Hardinlooksatme,andmyeyeswidenasItrytosilentlysay,No!Butthenhe
nodsatJace.Whatthehell?
“I’llcomedowninaminute;letmegether...settledin,”Hardinmumbles,
thenpullsmebymywristtohisroombeforeJacecansayanything.Unlocking
thedoortohisroom,hehurriesmeinsideandquicklyclosesthedoor.
“Idon’twanttogodownthere,”Itellhimashesetsmybagdown.
“You’renot.”
“Andyouare?”Iaskhim.
“Yeah,justforaminute.Iwon’tbelong.”Herubsthebackofhisneckwith
hishand.
“Why didn’tyou just tell him no?” I ask.For someone who claimshe isn’t
afraidofhim,HardinseemstobeveryintimidatedbyJace.
“Ialreadytoldyou,heishardtosaynoto,”hesays.
“Doeshehavesomethingoveryouorsomething?”
“What?”Hardin’sfaceflushes.“No...he’sjustadick.AndIdon’twantany
trouble.Especiallynotaroundyou,”hesaysandstepsforwardtome.“Iwon’t
bedowntherelong,butIknowhim,andifIdon’tgohaveadrinkwithhimhe
willcomebackuphere—andIdon’twanthimanywherenearyou,”hesaysand
kissesmeonthecheek.
“Okay,”Isigh.
“I need you to stay in here, though. I know it’s not ideal, with the music
bumpingdownstairs,butIcan’treallythinkofawayoutatthispoint.”
“Okay,”Irepeat.Idon’twanttogodownthereanyway.Ihatetheseparties,
andIdefinitelydon’twanttoseeMollyifsheishere.
“Imeanit.Okay?”hedemandsinasoftvoice.
“Isaidokay.Justdon’tleavemeupherealoneforlong,”Iplead.
“I won’t. We should go sign that paperwork tomorrow for the apartment.
RightafteryougetdoneatVance.Idon’twanttoworryaboutthiskindofshit
again.”
Idon’twanttohavetodealwiththesepartiesandmysmalldormanymore.I
want to eat my meals in a kitchen instead of a dining hall, and I want the
freedom of being an adult. Spending time on campus and living there only
remindsmehowyoungweactuallyare.
“Allright,Iwillbebacksoon.LockthedoorwhenIgooutanddon’topenit
again—Ihaveakey.”Heswiftlykissesmylipsandturnsforthedoor.
“Geez, you act like someone is going to murder me,” I joke, to break the
tension,notthathereturnsthelaughbeforewalkingoutoftheroom.Irollmy
eyesbutlockthedooranyway;thelastthingIwanttodealwithisdrunkpeople
wanderinginherelookingforaplacetofoolaround.
I turn on his television, hoping to drown out some of the noise from
downstairs,butmymindkeepswanderingtowhat’sgoingondownthere.Why
isHardinsointimidatedbyJace,andwhyisJacesuchacreep?Aretheyplaying
theirusualimmaturegameofTruthorDareagain?WhatifHardinisdaredto
kissMolly?Whatifsheissittingonhislaplikebefore?IhatethejealousythatI
feeltowardher—itdrivesmeinsane.IknowHardinhassleptwithandfooled
aroundwithmanydifferentgirls,Stephincluded,butMollyjustgetsundermy
skin.Maybeit’sbecauseIknowshedoesn’tlikemeandshetriestoshoveher
flingwithHardindownmythroat.
Andyoucaughtherstraddlinghimwithhertonguedownhisthroatthefirst
timeyoumether,mysubconsciousremindsme.
Andeventuallyallthesethoughtsgettome;IknowIshouldstayputandkeep
thedoorlocked,butmyfeethaveotherplansandbeforeIknowit,Iamtaking
thestepstwoatatimetofindHardin.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs I spot Molly’s hideous pink hair and
barelythereoutfit.Muchtomyrelief,Hardinisn’tanywheretobefound.
“Well,well,well,”avoicefrombehindmesays.IturntoseeJacestanding
lessthanafootaway.
“Hardinsaidyouweren’tfeelingwell.He’salwayslying,thatone.”Hesmiles
andpullsalighteroutofhispocket.Heflicksthetopwithhisthumb,igniting
theflame,andbringsittothehemofhisjeanvesttoburnoffsomeofthefringe.
I decide to keep Hardin’s lie going. “I wasn’t, but I’m feeling a bit better
now.”
“Soquickly?”Helaughs,obviouslyamused.
Theroomfeelsmuchsmallernowandthepartycrowdseemslarger.Inodand
surveytheroom,desperatetofindHardin.
“Come,Iwantyoutomeetsomeofmyfriends,”Jacesays.Hisvoicenever
failstosendashiverdownmyspine.
“Um...IthinkIsh-shouldfindHardin,”Istutter.
“Aww,comeon.Hardinisovertherewiththemanyway,”hesaysandmoves
toputhisarmovermyshoulder.
ItakeastepasidetopretendthatIdidn’tnoticehisgesture.Iconsidergoing
backupstairssoHardindoesn’tknowIcamedowninthefirstplace,butIgetthe
feelingJacewillfollowmeortellHardin.Mostlikelyboth.
“Okay,” I say, giving in. I follow Jace through the crowd, and he leads me
outsidetothebackyard.It’sdarkbutforafewporchlights.Istarttofeelnervous
about following Jace out into the dark yard until my eyes meet Hardin’s. His
widen with surprise, then anger, and he moves to stand up but then sits back
down.
“LookwhoIfoundwanderingaroundallbyherself,”Jacesaysandgestures
tome.
“Iseethat,”Hardinmumbles.Heispissed.
Istandinfrontofthesmallcircleofunrecognizablefacessittingaroundwhat
lookslikeafirepitmadefromlargerocks,notthatthere’sanyfiregoing.There
aresomegirlsthere,butmostlyit’sprettytough-lookingguys.
“Comehere,”Hardinsaysandscootsoversothereisroomformeontherock
thatheissittingon.
ItakeaseatandHardingivesmealookthatsaysifallthesepeopleweren’t
around he would be absolutely screaming at me. Jace leans over and says
somethingintotheearofaguywitharipped-upwhiteshirtandblackhair.
“Whyaren’tyouinmyroom?”Hardinsaysquietlybutforcefully.
“I...Idon’tknow.IthoughtmaybeMolly...”Ibegintosaybutrealizehow
stupiditsounds.
“You’re not serious,” he says with a hint of exasperation and runs his hand
overhishair.Theattentionisputbackonuswhentheblack-hairedguyhands
meabottleofvodka.“Shedoesn’tdrink,”Hardinsaysandgrabs it out of my
hands.
“Damn, Scott, she can speak for herself,” another guy says. He has a nice
smileanddoesn’tseemascreepyasJaceortheguywiththeblackhair.
Hardin laughs lightly, though I can tell it’s a fake laugh. “Mind your own
business,Ronnie,”Hardinsaysinalighttone.
“Sowho’supforagame?”JaceasksandIlookatHardin.
“Please tell me you guys don’t play Truth or Dare at parties too. Honestly,
whatisupwithplayinggames,anyway?”Igroan.
“Ooh,Ilikeher.Niceandfeisty,”RonniesaysandIlaugh.
“Whosaysthereisanythingwrongwithplayingafewgamesnowandthen?”
JaceslursandHardintensesnexttome.
“No,actuallywewerethinkingofstrippoker,”anotherguysays.
“Oh,noway,”Itellthem.
“Whataboutsuckandblow?”JacesaysandIcringeandblush.Iamnotsure
whatthatis,butitdoesn’tsoundlikesomethingIwanttoplaywiththisgroup.
“Neverheardofit.Butno,thanks,”Isay.IseeHardinsmileoutofthecorner
ofmyeye.
“It’safungame,morefunwhenyouhavehadadrinkortwo,”amalevoice
saysfromsomewhere.
IthinkaboutgrabbingthebottlefromHardinandtakingadrink,butIhaveto
getupearlyandIdon’twanttohaveahangover.
“Wedon’thaveenoughgirlstoplaysuckandblow,anyway,”Ronniesays.
“Icangetsome,”Jacesaysanddisappearsintothehousebeforeanyonecan
protest.
“Gobackupstairs,please,”HardinsaysquietlysoonlyIcanhear.
“Ifyoucomewithme,”Irespond.
“Okay,let’sgo.”
But as we stand up, a groan goes up from the circle. “Where you going,
Scott?”oneoftheguysasks.
“Upstairs,”heanswers.
“Comeon,wehaven’tseenyouinmonths.Hangoutforalittlewhilelonger.”
HardinlooksatmeandIshrug.“Allright,fine,”Hardinsaysandguidesme
backtothelargestone.“I’llberightback.Stayherethistime.Imeanit,”hetells
meand Iroll myeyes, findingit prettyironic thathe’sleaving mealone with
whatissupposedlytheworstgroupofpeoplehere.
“Whereareyougoing?”Iaskhimbeforehewalksaway.
“Togetadrink.Youmayneedone,too.”Hesmilesandgoesinside.
I stare at the sky and the fire pit alternately to avoid any awkward
conversation.Itdoesn’twork.
“SohowlonghaveyouandHardinknowneachother?”Ronnieasksandtakes
aswigofliquor.
“A few months,” I answer politely. Something about Ronnie is comforting;
mysensesaren’tonhighalertwithhimliketheyarewithJace.
“Oh,sonotlong,then?”hesays.
“Um, yeah, I guess. Not long. How long have you known him?” I ask,
realizingImightaswellusethisopportunitytogetasmuchinformationabout
Hardinaspossible.
“Sincelastyear.”
“Wheredidyoumeethim?”Itrytosoundcasual.
“Party.Well,alotofparties.”Helaughs.
“Oh,you’rehisfriend,then?”
“Noseylittlething,aren’tyou?”theguywiththeblackhairchimesin.
“Sure am,” I reply and he laughs. They aren’tso bad, not as bad as Hardin
madethemouttobe.Whereishe,anyway?
A few moments laterHardin appearswith Jaceand threegirls behind them.
Whatthehell?JaceandHardinseemtobeinconversationandJacepatsHardin
onthebackandtheybothlaugh.
Hardin’s handsarefull with tworedcups. I’m justrelievedthatMolly isn’t
amongthegroupofgirlstrailingthem.Hesitsbackdownontherockwithme
andgivesmeaplayfullittlelook.Atleastheseemstobemorerelaxedthanhe
wasbeforehewalkedaway.
“Here,”hesaysandhandsmeoneofthecups.
Istareatitforasecondbeforegrabbingitfromhim.Onedrinkwon’thurt.I
recognize the taste instantly; the night that Zed and I kissed we had been
drinkingthese.HardinstaresatmeandIlickmylipstocollectthetasteofthe
drink.
“Nowwehaveenoughgirls,”Jacesaysandgesturestothenewcomers.
Ilookovertothemandfighttheinstincttojudge.Theyare scantilycladin
skirts,andtheirshirts areidenticalexceptthecolors.Theonein thepinkshirt
smilesatme,soIdecidethatIlikeherthebest.
“Youaren’tplaying,”Hardinsaysinmyear.IwanttotellhimthatIwilldo
whatever the hell I please, but he leans into me and puts his arm around my
waist.Ilookupathim,obviouslysurprised,buthejustsmiles.
“Iloveyou,”hewhispers.HislipsarecoldagainstmyearandIshiver.
“Okay,soeveryoneknowshowthisworks,”Jacesaysloudly.“Weallneedto
getinasmallercircle.Butfirst,let’sreallygetthepartygoing.”Hesmirksand
pullssomethingoutofhispocket.Hislighterappearsagainandlightsthesmall
whiteobject.
“It’s pot,” Hardin tells me quietly. I figured that it was, even if I haven’t
actuallyseenmarijuanabefore.
InodandwatchasJacebringsthejointtohislipsandletsoutalargepuffof
smoke before holding it out in front of Hardin. Hardin shakes his head and
declines.Ronniegrabsitandinhalesdeeply,coughingloudly.
“Tessa?”Ronniesaysandholdsitout.
“No.No,thanks,”IsayandleanfartherintoHardin.
“Allright,then,let’splay,”oneofthegirlssaysandpullssomethingfromher
purse as everyone moves from their rocks and forms a smaller circle on the
grass.
“Comeon,Hardin!”Jacegroans,butHardinshakeshishead.
“I’mgood,man,”hesays.
“Weneedonemore girl then,unlessyou want totakethe chance of having
Dan’stonguedownyourthroat.”Ronnielaughs.Danmustbetheguywiththe
blackhair.Aquietredheadwithalotoffacialhairtakesahitfromthejointand
passesitbacktoJace.IfinishthelastsipofmydrinkandreachforHardin’s.He
liftsabrowatmebutletsmetakeit.
“I’llgrabMolly.Godknowsshe’llbedown,”thegirlinthepinkshirtsays.
WhenIhearhername,myhatredforMollytakesovermycommonsenseand
Iblurtout,“I’llplay.”
“Really?”Jacequestions.
“Issheallowed?”DanaskswithasmirkandlooksatHardin.
“I can do what I please, thank you,” I say and give him an innocent smile
despitemybitchytone.
IknowbetterthantolookatHardin;healreadytoldmenottoplay,butIjust
couldn’tkeepmybigmouthshut.Idowntherestofhisdrink,thentakeaseat
nexttothegirlinthepinkshirt.
“Youhavetositinbetweentwoguys,”thegirltellsme.
“Oh,okay,”Isayandgetup.
“I’m playing, too,” Hardin grumbles and sits down. I sit next to him
instinctively,butstillavoideyecontact.Jacesitsonmyotherside.
“I think Hardin should sit over here to make things more interesting,” Dan
says,andtheredheadnodsinagreement.
Hardinrollshiseyesandmovesacrossfromme.Idon’tgetthepointofthis
seatingarrangement—whydoesitmatterwhositsbywhom?WhenDanmoves
tositnexttome,Ibegintofeelnervous.SittingbetweenhimandJaceismore
thanuncomfortable.
“Canwestart?”thegirlingreenwhines.SheissittingbetweenHardinandthe
redhead.Jacegrabswhatlookslikeapieceofpaperfromoneofthegirlsand
putsittohismouth.
What?
“Ready?”heasksme.
“Idon’tknowhowtoplay,”Iconfessandhearoneofthegirlssnicker.
“Youputyourmouthontheothersideofthepaperandsuckin;thepointisto
notletthepaperfall.Ifitfalls,youkiss,”heexplains.
Ohno.IlookoveratHardin,butheisfocusedonJace.
“Startthiswaysoshecansee,”thegirlontheothersideofJacesays.
Idon’tlikethisgameatall.Ihopeitsomehowendsbeforeit’smyturn.Or
Hardin’s. Besides, they seem a little old to be playing these ridiculous games.
Whatis it with college kidswanting to kiss random peopleevery chance they
get?IwatchasthepaperispassedbetweenJace’sandthegirl’smouth;itdoesn’t
drop. I hold my breath as Hardin retrieves the paper from the one girl, then
passesittotheother.Ifhekissesoneofthem...Iletoutmybreathwhenit
doesn’tfall.Thepaperfallsbetweentheredheadandthegirlintheyellowshirt
andtheirlipsmeet.Hermouthopensandtheykisswithtongue,makingmelook
awayandcringe.Iwanttogetupandleavethecircle,butmybodystaysstill.I
amnext.
OhGod,Iamnext.IgulpasDanturnstomewiththepaperonhislips.I’m
stillnotentirelysurewhatIamsupposedtodo,soIjustclosemyeyesandgoto
putmymouthontheothersideandsuckin.Ifeelhotairthroughthepaperas
Danblowsontoit,butIcantellit’stoohardandthere’snowaythepaperwon’t
fall. Right as I feel the paper hitmy leg, I feel Dan’s hotbreath as his mouth
movesclosertomine.Thesecondhislipsbrushmineheispulledaway.
Iopenmyeyes,butbythetimemymindcancatchuptowhatishappening,
HardinisontopofDanandhashishandslatchedaroundtheguy’sneck.
chaptereighty-four
IscramblebackwardwithmyhandsasHardinliftsDan’shead,hishandsstill
wrapped around his neck, and slams it down into the grass. For a second I
wonderifHardinwouldhavedonethesamewereweontheconcreteporchor
nearthefirepitstones,andIfeellikemyanswercomesintheformofHardin
raisingonefisthighandslammingitintoDan’sjaw.
“Hardin!” I scream and climb to my feet. Everyone else just stares, Jace
seemingamusedandevenRonnieentertained.
“Stophim!”Ibeg,butJaceshakeshisheadasHardin’sfistconnectsagainto
Dan’salreadybloodyface.
“This has been coming for a while; let them hash it out.” He smirks at me.
“Wantadrink?”
“What?No,Idon’twantadrink!Whatthehelliswrongwithyou!”Iyell.
Acrowdhasnowgatheredaroundandpeoplearecheeringonthefight.Ihave
yet to see Dan hit Hardin, for which I’m glad, but I definitelywant Hardin to
stophurtingDan.I’mtooafraidtotrytostophimmyself,sowhenZedappears
intheyard,Iyellforhim.Hiseyesfindmeimmediatelyandhejogsover.
“Stop him, please!” I yell. Everyone seems excited about this except me. If
Hardinkeepshittinghim,hewillkillhim.Iknowit.
ZedgivesmeaquicknodandtakesafewstepsovertoHardin.Hewrapshis
fistinto Hardin’s shirt andpulls himbackward. Hardinis caught offguard,so
he’seasilyseparatedfromDan’spronebody.Enraged,Hardintakesaswingat
Zed,butZeddodgeshisfistandputsbothofhishandsonHardin’sshoulders.
HesayssomethingtoHardinthatIcan’tmakeoutandthennodshisheadtoward
me. Hardin’s eyes are blazing, his knuckles bloody and his shirt ripped from
Zed’s grip.Hischestis pumping upanddown rapidly,likehe’sawildanimal
afterakill.Idon’tmakeamovetowalktowardhim;Iknowhowangryheisat
me. I can tell. I am not afraid of Hardin the way I probably should be. Even
though I just witnessed him completely losing his temper in the worst way
possible,Iknowthathewouldneverphysicallyhurtme.
With the excitement winding down, almost everyone begins to move back
insidethehouse.Dan’scrumpledbodyliesonthegroundandJaceleansdownto
helphimup.Hestumblestohisfeetandliftshisshirtuptowipehisbloodyface
off,spittingoutamixtureofbloodandsalivathatmakesmelookaway.
Hardin’s head turns to lookwhere Danis andhe triesto takea steptoward
him.ZedholdsHardintighttostophim.
“Fuckyou,Scott!”Danyells.Jacestepsbetweenthem.Oh,nowhewantsto
dosomething.“Justwaituntilyourlittle—”Danshouts.
“Shutthefuckup,”JacesnapsandDan’smouthcloses.
DanlooksatmeandItakeastepback.IwonderwhatJacemeantby“thishas
beencomingforawhile.”HardinandDanseemedfinetogetherafewminutes
ago.
“Goinside!”Hardinyells,andIimmediatelyknowthatheistalkingtome.
Idecidetolistentohim,foronce,andturnaroundandrunintothehouse.I
knowthateveryoneisstaringatmebutIdon’tcare.Ipushmywaythroughthe
crowdedhouse and rush up toHardin’sroom. I must have forgottento lockit
when I left, and, to add to my horror, there is a big red spot on the carpet.
Someonemusthavestumbledinhereandspilledadrinkonthetancarpet.Great.
Ihurrytothebathroomandgrabatowelandturnthesinkon. IlockHardin’s
dooronceIstepinsideandfuriouslywipethestain,butthewateronlyspreads
thespotandmakesitmuchworse.ThedoorclicksandItrytostandbeforehe
enters.
“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”Hiseyesmovetothetowelinmyhandthento
thespotonthefloor.
“Someone... I forgottolockthedoor when Iwentdownstairs,”Isay and
lookathim.Hisnostrilsflareandhetakesadeepbreath.“I’msorry,”Isay.
TheangerisradiatingoffhimandIcan’tevenbeangrywithhimbecauseall
ofthisismyfault.IfIwouldhavejustlistenedtohimandstayedintheroom,
noneofthiswouldhavehappened.
HerunshishandsoverhisfaceinfrustrationandItakeasteptowardhim.His
fingers are busted and bloody, reminding me of his fight at the stadium. He
surprisesmebygrabbingthetowelfrommyhandsandIreflexivelyjumpbacka
little.Hiseyesflashwithconfusionandhetiltshisheadslightlyasheusesthe
nonstainedportionofthetoweltowipehisknucklesoff.
Iexpectedhimtobargethroughthedoorandbreakthingswhilescreamingat
me;insteadIamgrantedwithhissilence,whichturnsouttobemuchworse.
“Couldyoupleasesaysomething?”Ibeg.
Hiswordscomeevenslowerthanusual.“Trustme,Tessa,youdon’twantme
tospeakrightnow.”
“Yes,Ido,”Itellhim.Ican’tstandhisangrysilence.
“No,youdon’t,”hegrowls.
“Yes, I do! I need you to talk to me, tell me what the hell happened down
there!” I wave my hands toward the window and he clenches his fists by his
sides.
“Goddamnit,Tessa!Youalwayshavetopushandpush!Itoldyoutostayin
myfuckingroom—multiple times—and whatthefuck did youdo? You didn’t
listen,asusual!WhyisitsodamnhardforyoutolistentowhatIsay?”heyells
andslamshisfistagainstthesideofhisdresser,crackingthewood.
“Because,Hardin,youdon’tjustgettotellmewhattodoallthetime!”Iyell
back.
“Thatisn’twhatIamdoing.Iwastryingtokeepyouawayfromshitlikewhat
justhappened.Ialreadywarnedyouthattheyaren’tagoodgroupofpeople,yet
youpranceouttherewithJaceandthenvolunteeryourselftoplaythatfucking
game!Whatthefuckwasthat?”Thedeepveinsinhisneckarestrainingagainst
hisskinsotightlythatIfeartheymaybreakthrough.
“Ididn’tknowwhatthegamewas!”
“YouknewIdidn’twantyoutoplay,andtheonlyreasonyouwantedtoplay
wasbecauseMolly’snamewasmentionedbecauseofthiscrazyobsessionyou
havewithher!”
“Excuseme?Crazyobsession?MaybeIdon’tlikethefactthatmyboyfriend
usedtosleepwithher!”Mycheeksflame.MyjealousyanddisliketowardMolly
arealittlecrazybutHardinjustchokedaguyforalmostkissingme.
“Well, sorry to break it to you, but if you’re going to have a problem with
everyonethatIsleptwith,youmaywanttotransferschools,”heexclaimsand
mymouthfallsopen.“Youdidn’thaveaproblemwiththegirlsdownstairs,”he
addsandmyheartgoesfrantic.
“Whatgirls?”Mybreathcatches.“Thosethreethatwereplayingwithus?”
“Yeah, and just about every other girl in this place.” His voice holds no
emotionasheglaresatme.
ItrytocomeupwithsomethingtosaybutIamatalossforwords.Thefact
thatHardinhassleptwithallthreeofthosegirlsandbasicallytheentirefemale
population at WCU makes me nauseous—and the worst part is how he just
threwitinmyface.ImustlooklikesuchafoolhangingaroundHardinwhen
everyoneelsefiguresI’mjustoneofthemanygirlshe’ssleptwith.Iknewhe
wouldbepissed-off,butthisistoofar,evenforHardin.Ifeellikewehavegone
backintimetowhenIfirstmethimandhewouldpurposelymakemecryonan
almostdailybasis.
“What?Surprised?Youshouldn’tbe,”hesays.
“No.”AndI’mnotsurprised,notonebit.I’mhurt.Notabouthispast,justthe
way he treated me out of anger. He said it that way just to hurt me. I blink
rapidlytostopthetearsfromcoming,butwhenitdoesn’tworkIturnawayand
wipemyeyes.
“Justgo,”hesaysandwalkstowardthedoor.
“What?”Iaskandturntofacehim.
“Justgo,Tessa.”
“Gowhere?”
Hedoesn’tevenlookatme.“Backtoyourroom...Idon’tknow...butyou
can’tstayhere.”
Thisisnotat allwhatIthoughtwouldhappen.Thepainin mychestgrows
witheverysecondofsilencethatpassesbetweenus.Partofmewantstobeghim
toletmestay,andtoarguewithhimuntilhetellsmewhyhereactedthewayhe
did downstairs, but a bigger part of me is embarrassed and hurt by his cool
dismissal.Igrabmybagoffthebedandslingitovermyshoulder.WhenIreach
the door, I look back at Hardin and hope that he will apologize or change his
mind,butheturnstothewindowandcompletelyignoresme.Ihavenoideahow
I will get back to the dorms, since Hardin drove me here and I had every
intentionofstayingthenightwithhim.Idon’trememberthelasttimeIstayed
aloneinmyroom,andthethoughtunnervesme.Thedrivetothishouseseems
likedaysago,insteadofhours.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, someone tugs at the back of my
sweatshirt, and I hold my breath as I turn around, silently praying that it isn’t
JaceorDan.
It’s Hardin.“Comebackupstairs,”hesays,hisvoicedesperateandhiseyes
red.
“Why?Ithoughtyouwantedmetoleave.”Istareatthewallbehindhim.
Hesighsandgrabsthebagfrommyshoulderandwalksbackupthestairs.I
thinkaboutjustlettinghimhavethebagandleavinganyway,butmystubborn
attitudeiswhatgotmeinthissituationinthefirstplace.
Ihuffandfollowhimbacktothisroom.Whenthedoorclosesheturnsaround
andbacksmeupagainstthedoor.
Helooksintomyeyes.“I’msorry.”Hepusheshishipsagainstmineandputs
oneofhisarmsagainstthedoorclosetomyheadsoIcan’tmove.
“Me,too,”Iwhisper.
“Ijust...Ilosemytempersometimes.Ididn’treallysleepwiththosegirls.
Well,notallthreeofthem.”
Ifeelalittlerelievedbutnotcompletely.
“Myfirstinstinctwhen I get angryistocome back evenharder, to hurtthe
otherpersonasmuchasIcan.ButIdon’twantyoutoleave,andI’msorryfor
scaring you by beating the shit out of Dan. I am trying to change, change for
you...tobewhatyoudeserve,butit’shardforme.Especiallywhenyoudo
thingstopurposelypissmeoff,”hesays.Hebringshishandtomycheekand
wipesthedryingtearsleftthere.
“Iwasn’tscaredofyou,”Isay.
“Whynot?ItseemedlikeyouwerewhenIgrabbedthetowel.”
“No...well,Iwasalittlewhenyougrabbedthetowel,becauseofthestain
onthefloor.ButreallyIwasmoreafraidforyouwhenyouwerefightingDan.”
“Afraidforme?”Hepuffshisshouldersupalittleandbrags,“Hedidn’tgeta
hitonme.”
Irollmyeyes.“Imeantthatyouwouldendupkillinghimorsomething.You
couldgetinalotoftroubleforassaultinghim,”Iexplain.
Hardinchuckles.“Letmegetthisstraight:youwereworriedaboutthelegal
repercussionsofourfight?”
“Stoplaughing.I’mstillmadatyou,”Itellhimandcrossmyarms.I’mnot
exactlysurewhatIamupsetaboutexcepthimtellingmetoleave.
“I am still pissed at you, too, but you’re very amusing.” He presses his
foreheadagainstmine.“Youdrivemecrazy,”hesays.
“Iknow.”
“You never listen to me and you always fight me on everything. You are
stubbornandborderlineintolerable.”
“Iknow,”Irepeat.
“You provoke me and cause me a shitload of unnecessary stress, not to
mentionyoualmostmadeoutwithDanrightinfrontofme.”Hislipstouchmy
neckandIshiver.
“Yousaythemostannoyingthingsandyouactlikeachildwhenyou’remad.”
Despite the insults he is throwing at me—complaints about things that, deep
down,Ithinkhereallyenjoysaboutme—mystomachisflutteringashekisses
myskinandcontinueshislightverbalassault.Hepusheshishipsagainstmine
again,moreforcefullythistime.
“Butallthatbeingsaid...Ialsohappentobevigorouslyinlovewithyou,”
hesaysandsucksharshlyonsensitiveskinbelowmyear.
Ipushmyhandsthroughhishair,makinghimgroan,andheputsbothofhis
handsonmywaist,pullingmetohim.Iknowtherearemorethingstobesaid,
moreproblemstobesolved,butrightnowallIwantistogetlostinHardinand
forgetabouttonight.
chaptereighty-five
In what feels like a desperate attempt to be closer to me as we kiss, Hardin
movesahandtothebackofmyneck.Icansenseallofhisangerandfrustration
being transferred into lust and affection—his mouth is hungry and his kisses
sloppyashewalksbackwardwithourlipsstillattached.Heguidesmewithone
hand on my hip and the other behind my head, but I trip over his feet and
stumblejustashislegsreachtheendofhisbed,causingbothofustofallback
ontoit.Inanattempttowrestlecontrolfromhim,Istraddlehistorsoandpull
my sweatshirt and tanktop over my head at the same time, leavingme in my
lacybra. Hiseyes widen andhe triesto pullme down tokiss him,but Ihave
otherplans.
Reachingbehindmyback,myrushedfingersfindmybraclaspandIunsnap
it before pulling the straps down my shoulders and letting it drop to the bed
behindme.Hardin’shandsarewarmashereachesupandcupsmybreastsinhis
large palms, kneading them roughly. Grabbing his wrists, I remove his hands
from my skin and shake my head. His head tilts in confusion before I climb
downhisbodyandunbuttonhispants.Hehelpsmetugthemdowntohisknees
along with his boxers. My fingers immediately grip his length—he gasps, and
whenIlookathisfacehiseyesareclosed.Ipumpslowlybeforedippingdown
andbravelytakinghimintomymouth.Itrytorememberhisinstructionsfrom
lasttimeandrepeatthethingsthatIknowheliked.
“Fuck . . . Tessa,” he pants and wraps his hands into my hair. This is the
longesthehas been silentduringanysexual experience wehaveshared, and I
realizemuchtomyownamusementthatImissedhisdirtywords.
I move my body while continuing to please him and end up between his
knees.
Hesitsupandwatchesme.“Youlooksosexylikethis,withthatsmartmouth
ofyourswrappedaroundme,”hesaysandgripsmyhairharder.
Ifeeltheheatgatheringbetweenmylegsandmovemyheadfaster,wantingto
hearhimmoanmynameagain.Mytonguelapsaroundthetipofhimandhelifts
hishipsslightlyoffthebed,pushinghimselfdownmythroat.Myeyesbeginto
waterandIcanbarelybreathe,buthearingmynamefallfromhislipsoverand
overagainmakesitthatmuchbetter.Secondslater,heremoveshishandsfrom
myhairandcupsmyface,stoppingmefrommovingfurther.Themetallicscent
ofhisbloodyknuckleshitsmynose,butIignorethereflextopullaway.
“I’mgoingtocome...”hetellsme.“Soifthereisanythingelseyou...you
know,wanttodobeforethen,youshouldstopblowingme.”
Idon’twanttospeak,togiveawayhowdesperateIamtohavehimmakelove
to me, so I simplystand up and slide my jeans down my legs and step out of
them.WhenIbegintoremovemypantiesHardin’shandreachesoutandstops
me.
“I want you to leave these on . . . for now,” he coos. I nod and gulp,
anticipation consuming me. “Come here.” He gestures and pulls his shirt over
hishead.Scootingtotheedgeofthebed,hepullsmeontohim.
Our feverish exchange in the beginning has slowed and the angry tension
betweenushasdecreased.Hardin’schestisflushedandhiseyesarewild.The
feelingofsittingonhislapwhileheiscompletelynakedandready—andIam
only dressed in panties—is exquisite. He presses the small of my back, the
lengthof his one outstretched hand there holdingme in place as his lips meet
mineonceagain.
“Iloveyou,”hewhispersintomymouthashisfingersmovemypantiestothe
side.“I...loveyou...”
Igaspattheimmediatepleasureoftheintrusion.Hemoveshisfingersslowly,
tooslowly,andIinstinctivelyrockbackandforthtocreateafasterpace.
“That’sit,baby...fuck...You’realwayssoreadyforme,”hegroansandI
continue to rock against his hand. My breathing and moans intensify—it still
surprises me how quickly my body responds to Hardin. He knows every little
thingtodoandsay.
“Youaregoingtolistentomefromnowon.AmIright?”hesaysagainstmy
neck,gentlybitingtheskin.
What?
“TellmeyouwilllistentomeorIwon’tletyoucome.”
Hecan’tbeserious.“Hardin...”Ipleaandtrytomovefaster,buthestops
me.
“Okay...Okay...justplease,”Ibegandhesmirks.Iwanttoslaphimfor
doingthisrightnow.HeisusingmymostvulnerabletimeagainstmebutIcan’t
find my anger through my need for him. I am all too aware of his bare skin
againstmine,onlymythinpantiesbetweenus.
“Please,”Irepeatandhenods.
“Good girl,” he says in my ear and guides my hips to move again as his
fingerspumpinandout.
I feel myself inchingcloser and closerto the edgein no timeat all. Hardin
whispersfilthythingsinmyear,theforeignwordsurgingmeoninawaythatI
can’tdescribe.Theyarecompletelyfilthybutwelcome,andIgripontohisarms
tokeepmyselffromfallingoffthebedasIcomeundoneunderhistouch.
“Openyoureyes.IwanttowatchwhatonlyIcandotoyou,”heinstructsand
Idomybesttokeepthemopenasmyorgasmovertakesme.
Afterward, my head falls onto his chest and my arms wrap under his arms,
hugginghimtightasItrytocatchmybreath.
“Ican’tbelieveyoutriedto...”Ibegintoscoldhim,buthesilencesmeby
runninghistonguealongmybottomlip.MybreathcomesoutinspurtsasIam
still recovering from my high. I reach my hand down in between us and grab
holdofhim.Hewincesandpullsmylipbetweenhis,suckinglightly.Idecideto
takeapagefromtheHardinScottsexhandbookandgriphimharder.
“Apologize, and I will give you what you want,” I say as seductively as I
possiblycanintohisear.
“What?”Hisfaceispriceless.
“Youheardme.”Ikeepmyfaceneutralandpumphiminonehandandslide
myfingersovermysoakingpantieswiththeother.
HewhimpersasIrubhimagainstme.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts, his cheeks a deep shade of red. “Just let me fuck
you...please,”hebegsandIlaugh.Mylaughteriscutshortbyhimreaching
overtothenightstandandpullingoutasmallpacket.Hewastesnotimeputting
thecondomonandkissingmeagain.
“Idon’tknowifyouarereadytodoitthisway,withyouaboveme.Ifit’stoo
intense,tell me.Okay,baby?” And like thathe’s back to the sweet andgentle
Hardin.
“Okay,”Ianswer.
He lifts me up slightly and I feel the condom brush against me and then
fullnessashelowersmeontohim.
“Ohmy,”Isayandclosemyeyes.
“Isitokay?”
“Yeah...just...d-different,”Istammer.
Ithurts,notnearly as muchasbefore, but thefeelingisstillunpleasant and
foreign.Ikeepmyeyesclosedandmovemyhipsalittle,tryingtodecreasethe
pressure.
“Good,different,orbad?”Hisvoiceisstrainedandtheveininhisforeheadis
showing.
“Shh...stoptalking,”Isayandmoveagain.
Hemoansandapologizes,promisingtogivemeaminutetoadjust.Ihaveno
ideahowmuchtimepassesbeforeImovemyhipsagain.Thediscomforteases
dramaticallythemoreImove,andatsomepointHardinwrapshisarmsaround
myback, hugging mecloseto himashe movestomeet my hips.This way is
muchbetter,himholdingmeaswemovetogether.Oneofmyhandsrestsonhis
chest,holdingmyweightasmylegsstarttotire.Iignoretheburnofmymuscles
andcontinuetoridehisbodythisway.IkeepmyeyesopentowatchHardinasa
beadofsweatrollsdownhisforehead.Watchinghimlikethis,withhislowerlip
pulledbetweenhisteeth,hiseyessofocusedonmyfacethatIswearIcanfeel
theburnfromthemonmyskin,isoverwhelminginthebestway.
“Youareeverythingtome.Ican’tloseyou,”hesaysasmylipsmoveoverhis
neckandshoulder.Hisskinissaltyanddampandperfect.“I’mclose,baby,so
fuckingclose.You’redoingsogood,baby.”Hegroansandmoveshishandsup
anddownmybackasItrytopickupspeed.Helaceshisfingersthroughmine
andtheintimacyofthegesturemakesmeweak.IlovehisencouragementandI
lovehim.
Ifeel my stomachtightening as Hardingrips theback of myneck withone
hand.HecontinuestowhisperhowmuchImeantohimashisbodygrowstense.
Istare, completely consumedby hiswords andthe way histhumb isbrushing
overmyclit,bringingmetoaquickandpowerfulrelease.Ourmoansintertwine
alongwithourbodiesaswefinish.Hepracticallyfallsback,lyingonthebed,
and takes me with him. I barely notice him discarding the condom as I come
backtoreality.
“I’m glad you followed me down the stairs,” I finally say after a long but
pleasant silence. With my head lying on his bare chest, I can hear his rapid
heartbeatslowing.
“Me,too.Iwasn’tgoingto,butIhadto.Iamsorryfortellingyoutoleave.I
canbeanassholesometimes,”hesays.
Iliftmyheadupandlookathim.“Sometimes?”Ismile.
Heliftsoneofhishandsoffmybackandpokesmeonthenosewithhisindex
finger, making me giggle. “You weren’t complaining five minutes ago,” he
pointsout.
Ishakemyheadandlayitbackdownontohisclammyskin.Myfingerstrace
the simpleheart-shaped tattoo near his shoulder and I notice the goose bumps
raiseonhisskin.Itisn’tlostonmethattheheartiscoloredinwithsolidblack
ink.
“That’sbecauseyou’rebetteratthatstuffthanyouareatdating,”Itease.
“Iwon’targuethere.”Hechucklesandmovesmyhairfrommyface.Oneof
myfavoritethingsthathedoesiswhenhecaressesmycheek.Hisfingertipsare
rough,buttheysomehowfeellikesilkagainstmyskin.
“What happened between you and Dan? I mean before tonight?” I ask. I
probablyshouldn’t,butIhavetoknow.
“What?WhotoldyoutherewasaproblembetweenDanandme?”Heliftsmy
chintolookathim.
“Jace. He didn’t say what it was, though; he just said it was ‘coming for a
while.’Whatdidhemeanbythat?”
“Justsomebullshitthingthathappenedlastyear.It’snothingforyoutoworry
about.Ipromise,”hesays,andsmilesasmilethatdoesn’textendtohiseyesbut
Idon’tfeellikepushingit.
I’mjusthappythatweworkedthroughourproblemforonceandthatweare
gettingbetteratcommunicatingwithoneanother.
“You’regoingtomeetmeafteryouleaveVancetomorrow,right?Idon’twant
anyonetotakethatapartmentbeforeus,”hesays.
“Wedon’thaveanyfurniture,”Iremindhim.
“Itcomesfurnished.Butwecanaddthingsorchangewhateverwewantafter
wemovein.”
“Howmuchisit?”Iask.IknowIdon’twanttoheartheanswertothat.Ican
onlyimaginehowexpensiveitisifitcomesalreadyfurnished.
“Don’tworryaboutthat;allyouneedtoworryaboutishowmuchthecable
willbe.”Hesmilesandkissesmyforehead.“Sowhatdoyousay?You’restillin,
right?”
“Andgroceries,”Ipointoutandhefrowns.“Butyes,Iamstillin.”
“Areyougoingtotellyourmother?”
“Idon’tknow.Iwilleventually,butIalreadyknowwhatshe’sgoingtosay.
MaybeIshouldlethergetusedtothefactthatwe’retogetherfirst.Weareso
young and already moving in together, I don’t want to send her into a mental
ward.”Iletoutalaughdespitetheslightpaininmychest.Iwishthingscouldbe
simple with my mother and she could be happy for me, but I know that isn’t
plausible.
“I am sorry that this is happening between the two of you. I know it’s my
fault,butI’mfartooselfishtoremovemyselffromthesituation.”
“It’snotyourfault.Sheisjust...well,sheisthewaysheis,”Isayandkiss
hischest.
“You need to get to sleep, baby; you have to be up in the morning and it’s
almostmidnight,”hesays.
“Midnight?Ithoughtitwasmuchlater,”Isayandrolloffhimandlieinfront
ofhim.
“Well,ifyou weren’tso tight, Iwould have lastedlonger,” he says intomy
ear.
“Goodnight!”Igroaninembarrassment.
Helaughsandkissesthebackofmyneckbeforeturningthelightoff.
chaptereighty-six
Thenextmorning,brightandearly,IscramblearoundHardin’sroom,gathering
mythingstotakeashower.
“I’mcomingwithyou,”hegroans,butIlaugh.
“No,you’renot.Youknowit’sonlysixa.m.,right?Whathappenedtoyour
seven-thirtyrule?”Iteaseandgrabmybag.
“Iamgoingtowalkyouthere.”Ilovehisraspymorningvoice.
“Walkmewhere?Tothebathroom?”Iscoffasherollsoutofbed.“I’mabig
girl.Icanwalkmyselfdownthehall.”
“You’redoinganamazingjobatlisteningtomesofar.”Herollshiseyes,but
Iseetheamusementinthem.
“Fine, Daddy, walk me to the bathroom,” I whine playfully. I have no
intentionoflisteningtohim,butIdecidetohumorhimforthemoment.
Hardinraiseshiseyebrowandsmirks.“Don’tcallmethatagain,orI’llhave
totakeyoubacktobed.”HewinksandIhurryoutoftheroombeforeIamtoo
temptedtostay.
HefollowsbehindmeandsitsonthetoiletwhileIshower.“You’regoingto
have to take my car,” he says, which utterly surprises me. “I’ll get a ride to
campustograbyourssoIcangoovertotheapartment.”
I didn’t think about any of this last night, which further shocks me, since I
usuallyplaneverythingoutsowell.“You’regoingtoletmedriveyourcar?”I
gape.
“Yeah.However,ifyouwreckitdon’tbothercomingback,”hesays.
Partofmeknowsheissomewhatserious.ButIlaughandsay,“Ishouldbe
worriedaboutyouwreckingmine!”
Hetriestoopenthecurtain,butIpullitclosedagainandhearhimchuckle.
“Justthink,babe,aftertodayyouwillbeinyourownshowereverymorning.”
HisvoicecarriesoverthewaterasIrinsetheshampoofrommyhair.
“Idon’tthinkitwillreallyhitmeuntilweareactuallythere.”
“Waituntilyouseeit;youwillloveit,”hesays.
“Doesanyoneknowthatyouaregettinganapartment?”Iask.Ialreadyknow
theanswer.
“No,whywouldtheyneedtoknow?”
“Theydon’t,Iwasjustwondering.”
ThefaucetcreaksasIshutthewateroff.Hardinholdsatowelopenformeas
Istepoutandwrapsitaroundmysoakedbody.
“IknowyouwellenoughtoknowthatyouthinkIamhidingthefactthatwe
aremovingintogetherfrommyfriends,”hesays.
He’snotwrong.“Well,itdoesseemalittleoddthatyou’removingoutofhere
butnooneknows.”
“Thatisn’tbecauseofyou—it’sbecauseIdon’twanttoheartheirshitabout
droppingoutofthefraternity.Iwilltellthemall—evenMolly—afterwemove
in.”Hesmilesandwrapshisarmsaroundmyshoulders.
“IwanttobetheonetotellMolly.”Ilaughandhughimback.
“Deal.”
AftermultipleattemptstokeepHardin’shandsoffmeasIgetready,hehands
me the keys to his car and I leave. The moment I get in the car my phone
vibrates.
Becareful.Iloveyou,thetextreads.
Iwill.Youbecarefulinmycar:)Iloveyou.xo
Ican’twaittoseeyouagain.Meetmeatfive.Yourcrapcarwillbefine.
You should watch what you say or I may accidently hit a parkingmedianin yours. I smile to
myselfasIsendmyreply.
StoppesteringmeandgotoworkbeforeIcomedownthereandpeelthatdressoffyou.
Asappealingasthatsounds,Iputmyphonebackontothepassengerseatand
startthecar.Theenginegentlypurrstolife,unliketheloudroarofmine.Fora
classiccaritdrivesmuchsmootherthanmine;hereallytakescareofit.WhenI
turnontothefreewaymyphonerings.
“Jesus,youcan’tgotwentyminuteswithoutme?”Ilaughintothephone.
“Tessa?”amalevoicesays.Noah.
I pull my phone away from my ear and look at my screen to confirm my
horror.
“Um...sorry,Ithought...”Istammer.
“Youthoughtitwashim...Iknow,”hesays.Hisvoiceissadandnotatall
hateful.
“I’msorry.”Idon’tdenyit.
“S’okay,”hesays.
“So...”Iamnotsurewhattosay.
“Isawyourmomyesterday.”
“Oh.” The pain from Noah’s sorrow-filled voice and the reminder of my
mother’shatredformecausesmychesttoache.
“Yeah...sheisprettypissedatyou.”
“Iknow...shethreatenedtostophelpingmewithcollege.”
“Shewillgetoverthis,Iknowshewill.She’sjusthurt,”hesays.
“Sheishurt?You’rekiddingme,right?”Iscoff.Hecannotbedefendingher.
“No,no—Iknowsheisgoingaboutitthewrongway,butshe’sjustangrythat
youare...youknowwith...him.”Thedisgustinhisvoiceisevident.
“Well,itisn’therplacetotellmewhotobewith.Isthatwhyyoucalledme?
TotellmethatIshouldn’tbewithhim?”
“No,no—Tessa,it’snot.Ijustwantedtomakesureyouareokay.Thisisthe
longestwe have gonewithout talkingsincewe wereten years old,”he says.I
canpicturethefrownonhisface.
“Oh...I’msorryforsnappingatyou.Ijusthavealotgoingonrightnowand
Ithoughtyouwerecallingto—”
“Just because we aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be there
foryou,”hesays,andmyheartaches.Idomisshim;notmyrelationshipwith
him,buthe’sbeensuchahugepartofmylifesinceIwasachild,it’shardtolet
thatgoentirely.Hewasthereformethrougheverything,andIhurthim,without
evencallingtoexplainorapologize.IfeelterribleabouthowIleftthingswith
him,andtearswellupinmyeyes.
“I’msorryforeverything,Noah,”Isaysoftlyandsigh.
“It’llbeokay,”hesaysback,equallysoftly.Butthen,asifneedingtochange
the topic, he says, “So I heard you got an internship,” and our conversation
continuesuntilIarriveatVance.
When we get off the phone he promises to talk to my mother about her
behaviortowardme,andIfeellikeahugeweighthasbeenliftedfromme.Of
anyone,Noahcouldalwaysmanagetogethertocalmdownwhenshewasather
worst.
The rest of my day goes smoothly. I spend the entire day finishing my first
manuscriptandmakingnotesforMr.Vance.HardinandItextonandofftonail
downthedetailsonwheretomeet,andbeforeIknowitthedayisover.
When I arrive at the address Hardin sent me, I’m surprised to find that it’s
abouthalfwaybetweencampusandVancePublishing.Mydrivewouldonlybe
twenty minutes if I lived here, when I live here. It still seems like such an
abstractidea,HardinandIlivingtogether.
I don’t see my car when I pull into the parking lot, and when I try to call
Hardin’sphoneIgethisvoicemail.Whatifhechangedhismind?Hewouldtell
me,wouldn’the?
JustasIstarttopanic,Hardinpullsmycarintothelotandparksnexttome.
Atleast,it lookslikemy car,butit also looksdifferent.Thesilverpaintis no
longerchipped,andoverallitlooksshinyandnew.
“Whatdidyoudotomycar?”Isaywhenheclimbsout.
“It’snicetoseeyou,too.”Hesmilesandkissesmycheek.
“Seriously,whatdidyoudo?”Icrossmyarms.
“Igotapaintjob.Jesus.Youcouldthankme.”Herollshiseyes.
Ibitemytongueonlybecauseofwhereweareandwhatweareabouttodo.
Besides,thepaintjobdoeslookreallygood.Ijustdon’tliketheideaofHardin
spendingmoneyonme,andpaintjobsarenotcheap.
“Thankyou.”Ismileandlacemyfingersthroughhis.
“You’rewelcome.Nowlet’sgoinside.”Heleadsmethroughtheparkinglot.
“Youlookgooddrivingmycar,especiallyinthatdress.Icouldn’tstopthinking
about it all day. I wish you would have obliged my request that you send me
nakedpicturesofyourself,”hesays,andIelbowhim.“Justsaying.Wouldhave
madeclassmuchmoreinteresting.”
“Oh,soyouwenttoclass,”Isay,laughing.
Heshrugsandopensthefrontdoorofthebuildingforme.“Hereweare.”
I smile at his uncharacteristic gesture and walk inside. The lobby of the
building isn’t what I expected at all. It is all white: white floors, clean white
walls, white chairs, white couches, white rugs, white lamps on clear tables. It
lookselegant,butveryintimidating.Ashort,baldingmaninasuitgreetsusand
shakes Hardin’s hand. He seems nervous around us, or maybe just around
Hardin.
“YoumustbeTheresa.”Hesmiles.Histeethareaswhiteasthebrightwalls.
“Tessa,”IsmileandcorrecthimwhileHardinbitesbackasmileofhisown.
“It’snicetomeetyou.Shallwegettosigning?”
“No,shewantstoseeitfirst.Whywouldwesignifshehasn’tevenseenit?”
Hardinsaysinaflattone.
Thepoormangulpsandnods.“Ofcourse,let’sgoup.”Hegesturesdownthe
hallway.
“Benice,”IwhispertoHardinasthethreeofuswalktotheelevator.
“Nope.”Hesmirksatmeandsqueezesmybehindgently.
Iglareathim,buthisdimpledsmileonlygrows.Themantellsmeabouthow
great the view is and that this is one of the best and most diverse apartment
buildingsinthearea.Inodalongpolitely,andHardinstaysquietaswestepoff
theelevator.Iamtakenabackbythecontrastbetweenthelobbyandthehallway.
It feels like we have stepped into a completely different building . . . even a
differenttimeperiod.
“Here it is,” the man says and opens the first door we come to. “There are
onlyfiveapartmentsonthisfloor,soyouwillhavealotofprivacy.”Hegestures
for us to enter, but looks away from Hardin’s gaze. He is definitely afraid of
Hardin.Ican’tsayIblamehim,butitisalittleentertainingtowatch.
IhearmyowngaspasItakeinthesightbeforeme.Themainroom’sfloors
areold,stainedconcrete,exceptforonelargesquareofhardwoodinthespace
that I assume would be the living room. The walls are brick and beautiful.
Damagedbutperfect.Thewindowsarelarge,andthefurnitureisold-fashioned
butclean.IfIcoulddesigntheperfectspace,thiswouldbeit.It’ssomehowa
throwbacktoanotherera,butcompletelymodern.
HardinwatchesmeintentlyasIlookaround,goingintotheotherroomsand
letting Hardin and the man trail behind. The kitchen is small and has
multicolored tiles above the sink and countertop, adding an indie, fun look. I
absolutelyloveeverythingaboutthissmallapartment.Thelobbydownstairshad
scared me, so I was expecting to hate the place. I thought it would be an
overpriced,stuffyapartment,andI’mthrilledthatitisn’t.Thebathroomissmall
butbigenoughforus,andthebedroomisjustasperfectastherestoftheplace.
Three walls are old red brick and the fourth is covered with a floor-to-ceiling
bookshelf.Ithasaladderattached,andIcan’thelpbutlaughbecauseIalways
picturedmyselfhavingthisexactapartmentafterIgraduatedfromcollege.Ijust
didn’tthinkitwouldcomesosoon.
“Wecouldfilltheshelves.Ihavealotofbooks,”Hardinmumblesnervously.
“I...just...”Ibegin.
“You don’t like it, do you. I thought you would; it seemed perfect for you.
Damnit!”Hefrownsandrunshisfingersoverhishair.
“No...I—”
“Let’sgo,then,showusanotherone,”Hardinsnapsattheman.
“Hardin!Ifyouwouldletmefinish,IwasgoingtosaythatIloveit,”Itell
him.
ThemanlooksjustasrelievedasHardin,whosefrownturnsintoamassive
smile.“Really?”
“Yes,Iwasafraiditwasgoingtobesomefancy,coldapartment,butthisis
justperfect,”Itellhimandmeanit.
“Iknewit!Well,Iwasgettingnervousasecondago,butassoonasIchecked
thisplaceoutIthoughtofyou.Ipicturedyouthere...”Hepointstothebench
inthe window.“Just sitting andreading a book.That’swhen Iknew I wanted
youtoliveherewithme.”
I smile and my stomach flutters at his saying that in front of someone else,
evenifit’sarandomleasingagent.
“Sowe’reallreadytosign,then?”Themanshiftsuncomfortably.
HardinlooksatmeandInod.Ican’tbelievewearereallydoingthis.Iignore
thesmallvoiceremindingme that this istoosoon,thatI am tooyoung,andI
followHardinbackintothekitchen.
chaptereighty-seven
Hardinsignshisnameonthebottomofwhatseemslikeanendlesspagebefore
sliding the whole thing over to me. I grab the pen and sign before I can start
overthinking it again. I am ready for this; we are ready for this. Yes, we are
youngandwehaven’tknowneachotherverylong,butIknowthatIlovehim
more than anything and he loves me. As long as that much is certain, the rest
willfallintoplace.
“Allright,hereareyourkeys.”Robert,whosenameIfinallylearnedfromall
thosepages,handsHardinandmeeachasetofkeys,bidsusfarewell,andison
hisway.
“Well...welcomehome?”Hardinsaysoncewe’realone.
Ilaughandstepclosertohimsohecanwraphisarmsaroundme.
“Ican’tbelieveweliveherenow.Itstilldoesn’tseemreal.”Myeyesscanthe
livingroom.
“IfsomeonehadtoldmeIwouldbelivingwithyou—letalonedatingyou—
twomonthsago,Iwouldhaveeitherlaughedintheirfaceorpunchedthem...
eitherone.”Hesmilesandtakesmyfacebetweenhishands.
“Well,aren’tyousweet?”Iteaseandputmyhandsonhissides.“It’sarelief,
though, to have our own space. No more parties, no more roommates and
communityshowers,”Isay.
“Ourownbed,”headdswithawiggleofhiseyes.“Wewillneedtogetafew
things,dishesandsuch.”
Itouchthebackofmyhandtohisforehead.“Areyoufeelingokay?”Ismile.
“You’rebeingawfullycooperativetoday.”
Hebrushesmyhandaside,thengivesthebackofitalittlekiss.“Ijustwantto
makesureyouarepleasedwitheverythinghere.Iwantyoutofeelathome...
withme.”
“Andwhataboutyou?Doyoufeelathomehere?”Iaskhim.
“Surprisinglyenough,yes,”heanswers,nodding,andlooksaroundtheroom.
“We should go get my stuff. I don’t have much but a few books and my
clothes,”Isay.
Hewaveshisarmsintheairasifhehasperformedsomesortofmagictrick.
“Alreadydone.”
“What?”Iask.
“Ibroughtallofyourbelongingsfromyourroom;theyareinyourtrunk,”he
explains.
“HowdidyouknowIwouldsign?WhatifIhatedtheapartment?”Ismile.I
dowishIhadhadthechancetosaygoodbyetoStephandtheroomthatIcalled
homeforthreemonths,butI’llseeheragainsoon.
“Becauseifyouwouldn’thavelikedthisone,Iwouldhavefoundonethatyou
did,”heanswersconfidently.
“Okay...Well,whataboutyourstuff?”
“Wecangetittomorrow.Ihaveclothesinmytrunk.”
“Whatiswiththat,anyway?”Healwayshassomanyclothesinhiscar.
“I don’t know, really. I guess you just never know when you will need
clothes.”Heshrugs. “Let’s goto the storeand get alltheshit weneedfor the
kitchenandsomefood,”Hardinsays.
“Okay.” My stomach has been full of butterflies since I stepped into the
apartment.“CanIdriveyourcaragain?”Iaskwhenwegetdowntothelobby.
“Idon’tknow...”Hesmiles.
“You painted my car without my permission. I think I have earned the
privilege.”Iholdout myhandsandherollshiseyesbeforedroppingthekeys
intothem.
“Soyoulikemycar,then?Itdrivesnicely,doesn’tit?”
Igivehimacoylook.“It’sokay.”
Ilie;Ilovethewayitdrives.
Our building could not be located in a better place; we’re close to multiple
stores,coffeeshops,andevenapark.WeendupgoingtoTarget,andsoonthe
cart is full of dishes, pots and pans, cups, and other things I didn’t know we
would need but seem useful. We save the groceries for another trip since we
already have so much stuff. I volunteer to go grocery shopping after my
internshiptomorrowifHardinmakesmealistofthingshelikestoeat.Thebest
thing so far about living together is all the small details about Hardin that I
wouldhaveotherwiseneverknown.He’ssostingywithinformation,it’sniceto
getsomeofouthimwithoutafight.Eventhoughwespendalmosteverynight
together,byjustbuyingthingsforourplace,I’mfindingoutthingsthatIwould
have never known. Like: he likes cereal with no milk; even the idea of
mismatchingcupsdriveshiminsane;heusestwodifferenttypesoftoothpaste,
oneinthemorningandoneatnight,andhedoesn’tknowwhy,hejustdoes;and
he would rather mop the floor a hundred times before having to load a
dishwasher. We agree that I will always do the dishes as long as he mops the
floor.
Webickerbackandforthinfrontofthecashierwhenitcomestimetopay.I
know he had to put a deposit down for the apartment, so I want to cover our
Targethaul.Butherefusestoletmepayforanythingexceptcableandgroceries.
Atfirst,heofferedtoletmepayfortheelectricity,whichhedeclinedtotellme
wasalreadyincludedintherentuntilIfoundtheproofonthelease.Thelease.I
havealease,withamanthatI’mmovinginwithmyfreshmanyearofcollege.
That’snotcrazy,right?
HardinglaresatthewomanwhenshetakesmydebitcardandIgiveherprops
becausesheswipesmycardwithoutevenacknowledginghisattitude.Iwantto
laugh in victory, but he is already irritated and I don’t want the night to be
ruined.
Hardinsulksuntilwegetbacktotheapartment,andIstayquietbecauseIfind
itamusing.“Wemighthavetomaketwotripsdownheretogetallthestuff,”I
tellhim.
“That’sanotherthing:Iwouldrathercarryonehundredbagsthanmaketwo
trips,”hesaysandfinallysmiles.
Westillenduphavingtotaketwotripsbecausethedishesarejusttooheavy.
Hardin’sirritationgrows,butsodoesmyhumor.
WeputallthedishesawayintothecabinetsandHardinordersapizza.The
politepersoninmecan’thelpbutoffertopayforit,whichearnsmeaglareand
a middle finger. I laugh and put all the trash into the box the dishes came in.
They weren’t joking when they said the apartment came furnished—it has
everythingwecouldneed,atrashcan,evenashowercurtain.
“Thepizzawillbehereinthirtyminutes.Iamgoingtogodownandgetyour
stuff,”hesays.
“I’llcome,too,”Isayandfollowhimout.
Hehasputmythingsintotwoboxesandatrashbag,whichmakesmecringe
but I stay quiet. Grabbing a handful of T-shirts and a pair of jeans out of his
trunk,heshovesthemintothetrashbagwithmyclothes.
“Good thing we have an iron,” I finally say. When I look into his trunk,
somethingcatchesmyeye.“Younevergotridofthosesheets?”Iask.
“Oh...yeah.No,Iwasgoingto,butIforgot,”hesaysandlooksaway.
“Okay...”Ifeelalittleuneasyabouthisreaction.
We haul a load of stuff up the stairs, and right when we reach the top, the
pizza guy rings our bell. Hardin goes back down to meet him, and when he
comesbackupthearomacomingfromtheboxisheavenly.Ididn’trealizehow
hungryI’dgotten.
Weeatatthetable,andit’sstrangebutnicetobeeatingdinnerwithHardinin
ourplace.We’requietaswedevourthedeliciouspizza,butit’sthegoodkindof
silence.Thekindthattellsmewe’rehome.
“Iloveyou,”hesaysasIputourplatesintothedishwasher.
Iturnandrespond,“Iloveyou,”justasmyphonevibratesloudlyonthewood
table.Hardinlooksoverandtapsthescreen.“Whoisit?”Iaskhim.
“Noah?”hesaysasbothadeclarationandaquestionatthesametime.
“Oh.”Iknowthisisn’tgoingtogowell.
“Hesaysitwas‘nicetalkingtoyoutoday’?”Hisjawclenches.
Iwalkbackoverandgrabthephone,practicallywrestlingitoutofhisgrip.I
couldhaveswornhewasgoingtocrushitinhishand.
“Yeah,hecalledmetoday,”Itellhimwithfalseconfidence.Iwasgoing to
mentionittohim.Ijusthaven’tfoundtherighttime.
“And...”Heraiseshiseyebrow.
“HewasjusttellingmethathesawmymotherandhewasjustseeinghowI
amdoing.”
“Why?”
“Idon’tknow...justtocheckonme,Iguess.”Ishrugandsitdowninthe
chairnexttohimatthetable.
“Hedoesn’tneedtobecheckingonyou,”hegrowls.
“It’snotthatbigadeal,Hardin.I’veknownhimhalfmylife.”
Hiseyesgrowcolder.“Idon’tgiveashit.”
“You’rebeingridiculous.Wejustmovedintogetherandyou’reworriedabout
Noahcallingme?”Iscoff.
“Youhavenoreasontobetalkingtohim;heprobablythinksyouwanthim
backsinceyouansweredthecall.”Herunshishandsthroughhishair.
“No, he doesn’t. He knows that I am with you.” I try my best to fight my
temper.
Hegestureswildlyatmyphone.“Thencallhimrightnowandtellhimnotto
callyouagain.”
“What? No! I’m not doing that. Noah hasn’t done anything wrong, I have
already hurt him enough—we both have—so, no. I will not say that to him.
Thereisnoharminmebeingfriendswithhim.”
“Yesthereis,”hesays,hisvoicerising.“Hethinksheisbetterthanme,and
he will try to take you from me! I’m not stupid, Tessa. Your mom wants you
withhimtoo—Iwon’tlethimtrytotakewhatismine!”
I step back and look at him with wide eyes. “Would you listen to yourself?
Yousoundlikealunatic!Iamnotgoingtobehatefultohimjustbecauseyou
feellikeyouhavesomeinsaneclaimonme!”Istormoutofthekitchen.
“Don’twalkawayfromme!”hebooms,followingmeintothelivingroom.
LeaveittoHardintostartafightwithmeaftertheamazingdaywehavehad.
ButI’mholdingmygroundonthis.“Thenstopactinglikeyouownme.Iwill
trytocompromiseandmakeanefforttolistentoyoumorethanIdonow,but
notwhenitcomestoNoah.Iwouldimmediatelystoptalkingtohimifhetried
to make a move or say anything inappropriate, but he didn’t. Besides, you
obviouslyneedtojusttrustme.”
Hardinstaresatme,andIwonderifhisenergyisdissipatingwhenatlasthe
simplysays,“Idon’tlikehim.”
“Okay,Igetthat,butyouhavetobereasonable.Heisnotplottingtotakeme
away from you; he isn’t like that. This is the first time he has even tried to
contactmesinceIendedthingswithhim.”
“Andthelast!”Hardinsnaps.Irollmyeyesandheadintothesmallbathroom.
“Whatareyoudoing?”heasks.
“I’mgoingtotakeashower,andwhenIgetoutIhopeyou’redoneactinglike
achild,”Isay.I’mproudofthewayIamstandinguptohim,butIcan’thelpbut
feelbadforhim.IknowheisjustafraidtolosemetoNoah;hehasthisdeep
jealousybecauseofthewayNoahandI“look”together.OnpaperNoahisbetter
forme,andHardinknowsthat,butIdon’tloveNoah,IloveHardin.
Hardinfollowsmeintothebathroom,butwhenIstarttoundressheturnsand
leaves,slammingthebathroomdooronhiswayout.Itakeaquickshowerand
whenIgetoutHardinislyingacrossthebedinjusthisboxers.IstayquietasI
openthedrawerstofindpajamas.
“You’renotgoingtowearmyshirt?”Hisvoiceislow.
“I . . .” I notice that he folded it and put it on the table next to the bed.
“Thanks.” I pull it over my head. The familiar minty scent almost makes me
forgetthatI’msupposedtobemadathim.ButwhenIlookoverathimandhis
darkmood,Iremember all too well.“Well,thiswasagreat night,” I huffand
takemytowelbacktothebathroom.
“Comehere,”hesayswhenIreturn.
Hesitantly,Iwalkovertohimandhesitsupattheendofthebed,pullingme
tostandbetweenhislegs.
“I’msorry.”Helooksupatme.
“For...?”
“Actinglikeacaveman,”hesays,andIcan’thelpbutlaugh.“Andforruining
ourfirstnightheretogether,”headds.
“Thank you. We have to discuss these things instead of you blowing up at
me.”Itwirlthehairatthenapeofhisneckinbetweenmyfingers.
“Iknow.”Hehalf-smiles.“Canwediscussyounottalkingtohimanymore?”
“Nottonight,”Isaywithasigh.Iwillhavetofindamiddlegroundwithhim,
butIamnotcompletelygivingupmyrighttotalktosomeoneI’veknownhalf
mylife.
“Lookatusworkingourproblemsout.”Hechucklesruefully.
“Ihopeourneighborswon’tmisstheirquietevenings.”
“Oh, they wouldn’t have gotten any quiet anyway.” His smile shows his
dimplestofullfire-ignitingeffect,butIignorehispervertedremark.
“Ireallydidn’tmeantoruinthenight,”hesaysagain.
“Iknow.It’snotruined.It’sonlyeight.”Ismile.
“I wanted to be the one to take that dress off you,” he states, his eyes
darkening.
“Icouldalwaysputitbackon,”Isayinwhatisanattempttobesexy.Without
awordhestandsupandliftsmeoverhisshoulder.Isquealandtrytokickmy
legsathim.“Whatareyoudoing!”Iscream.
“Going to get that dress.” He laughs and carries me over to the laundry
hamper.
chaptereighty-eight
Too bad we didn’t make it to the part about me removing the dress,” Hardin
whispersintomyearashepushesmefartherontothebed.AssoonasIslidhis
T-shirt off over my head, he practically tackled me onto our bed and slid the
condomonfasterthanIthoughtpossible.
“Mmm...”istheonlywordIcanmanagetoformasheslidesinandoutof
me.Thisisthefirsttimewearemakinglovethatthereisnopain,onlypleasure.
“God,baby...youfeelsogood,”hegroansandrockshishipsagainstmine.
Thefeelingisindescribable.Hisleanbodyfitsperfectlybetweenmylegs,and
hishotskinfeelsheavenlyagainstmine.Iconsiderresponding,tourgehimwith
dirtytalkthewaythathedoesme,butI’mlostinhimandthepleasurecoursing
throughmeashecontinueshistenderassault.
Igripontohisback,mynailsrakedownhisskin,andhiseyesrolltotheback
ofhishead.Ilovetoseehimthisway,sooutofcontrol,soprimal.Heliftsmy
thightowraparoundhiswaist,bringingourbodiesevencloser.Watchinghim
pushes me to thelimit; mytoes curl and my leg tightens around hisback as I
moanhisnamerepeatedly.
“That’sit,baby...comeforme.Showmehowgood...fuck...howgoodI
makeyouf-feel,”hestutters,andIfeelhimtwitchinsideme.Thoughhefinishes
afewsecondsbeforeme,hisperfectmovementscontinueuntilIamturnedinto
apoolofbonelessmushandamspent.Mybodyiscompletelyrelaxedandhe
collapsesontopofme.Weliethereinsilencejustenjoyingthefeelingofbeing
soclosetoeachother,andwithinminutessoftsnoresfallfromHardin’slips.
THEDAYSHEREPASSQUICKLY.Havingfreedomforthefirsttimeinyour
lifewilldothat.It’sstillforeigntobeinmyownplacewithmyownshower,to
make my own coffeein my own kitchen. Sharingall of this with Hardin only
makesitthatmuchbetter.Idecideuponmynavyblueeyeletdresswithwhite
heels.Iamgettingbetteratwalkinginthem,butIstillpackmytrustyTomsin
my purse just in case. My hair is curled and pinned back and I even put on a
littleeyeshadowandliner.Iamreallylikingthishavingmyownspace.
Hardinrefusestowakeup,sittinguponlylongenoughtokissmegoodbye.I
wonderhowhemanagestoworkanddoallofhisschoolworkwhenIhaveyetto
seehimdoeither.Inabravemove,IgrabhiscarkeysandtakehiscartoVance.
Ifheisskippingclasses,hesurelywon’tmissit,right?Iforgethowmuchcloser
welivetoVancenow,andImakeamentalnotetoremembertothankHardinfor
hisforesight, eventhough he has to drivefarther tocampus now. ThatI don’t
havetodrivefortyminutesmakesmydaymuchbetter.
WhenIreachthetopfloorKimberlyisstandingattheconferenceroomtable
placingdonutsinneatrows.
“Whoa,Tessa!Lookatyou!” Shewhistlesplayfully.Iflushandshelaughs.
“Navyisdefinitelyyourcolor.”Shelooksmeupanddownagain.Ifeelslightly
self-conscious, but her smile soothes my thoughts. I have been feeling much
moreconfidentandsexylately,thankstoHardin.
“Thankyou, Kimberly.”Ismile backand grab adonut anda cup ofcoffee.
Thephoneringsonherdeskandsherushesovertoanswerit.
WhenIgettomyoffice,IhaveanemailfromMr.Vancepraisingmynoteson
the first manuscript and saying that even though that one was a pass for the
house,helooksforwardtomyevaluationofthenextone.Idiverightinandget
towork.
“Anything good?” Hardin’s voice startles me out of my work. I look up,
slightlyshocked,andhesmiles.“Mustbe,sinceyoudidn’tseem to noticemy
arrival.”
Helooksincredible.Hishairispushedupinthefrontasalways,butthesides
areflatterthanusual,andhehasaplainwhiteV-neckon.Theshirtistighterthan
usual,makinghistattoosevenmorevisibleunderneath.Heissoincrediblyhot
—andallmine.
“So...howwasthedrive?”heaskswithasmirk.
“Reallynice.”Igiggle.
“Soyouthinkyoucanjusttakemycarwithoutmypermission?”Hisvoiceis
lowandIcan’ttellifheisjoking.
“I...well...”Istammer.
Hedoesn’tsayanything,justwalksoverbehindmydeskandpullsmychair
out.Hiseyesmovefrommyshoesuptomyfaceandhepullsmetostandup.
“You look so sexy today,” he says against my neck before gently pressing his
lipsagainstmyskin.
Ishiver.“Why...whyareyouhere?”
“Youaren’thappytoseeme?”Hesmilesandliftsmeontothedesk.
Oh.“Yeah...ofcourseIam,”Itellhim.Iamalwayshappytoseehim.
“Imayhavetoconsidercomingbackhereafterall,justsoIcandothisevery
day,”hesaysandputshishandsonmythighs.
“Someonecouldcomeinhere.”Itrytobestern,butmytoneisshaky.
“Nope—VanceisatameetingfortherestoftheafternoonandKimberlyhas
agreedtocallifsheneedsyou.”
TheideaofHardinhintingtoKimberlywhatwecouldbedoinginheremakes
mycheeksheat,butmyhormonestakeover.Iglanceatthedoor.
“Locked,”heanswerscockily.
Withoutthinking,IpullHardincloserandimmediatelyputmyhandoverhis
crotch, palming him through his jeans. He groans and unbuttons his jeans,
yankingthemdownalongwithhisboxers.
“This is going to be faster than usual, okay, baby?” he says and slides my
pantiesover.
Inodwithanticipationandlickmylips.Hechucklesandpullsmebymyhips
totheedgeofthedesk.MylipsattackhisneckandIhearthefoilpacketbeing
rippedopen.
“Lookatyou—threemonthsagoyouwouldblushatthementionofsex,and
nowhereyouarelettingmefuckyouonyourdesk,”hewhispersandslamsinto
me.
Hardinclampshishandovermymouthandtakeshisbottomlipbetweenhis
teeth.Ican’tbelieveIamactuallylettingHardinhavesexwithmeonadesk,at
the place of my internship, with Kimberly less than a hundred feet away. As
muchasIhatetoadmitit,theideaactuallydrivesmecrazy.Inthebestway.
“Areyougoing...tobe...quiet...”hesaysinshortspurtsandmoveseven
faster.Inodandpant,grabbingontohisbicepssoIdon’tfalloffthedeskfrom
hisassault.
“Youlikeitthisway,don’tyou?Fastandhard?”Hegritshisteeth.Igently
bitedownonhispalmtokeepquiet.
“AnswermeorI’llstop,”hethreatens.
Ilowermyeyesathimandnod,toooverwhelmedwithsensationtoactually
speak.
“Iknewyouwould,”hesays,andflipsmeoversomystomachisonthedesk.
OhGod.Hethrustsbackintomeandmovesslowlybeforewrappingmyhair
aroundhisfistandpullingmeupsohecankissmyneck.Thetensiongrowsin
mystomachandhismovementsgrowsloppier—andIknowwearebothclose.
Withhisfinalthrusthekissesmyshoulderbeforepullingoutofmeandhelping
meoffthedesk.
“Thatwas—”Itrytosayandhesilencesmebykissingmylips.
“Yeah...itwas.”Hefinishesmythoughtsbeforepullinghispantsbackup.I
run my fingers through my hair and wipe under my eyes to make sure my
makeup is in place before looking at the clock. It’s almost three. The day has
escapedmeonceagain.
“Youready?”heasks.
“What?It’sonlythree.”Ipointtotheclock.
“Christiansaidyoucanleaveearly.Ispoketohimanhourago.”
“Hardin! You can’t just ask him if I can leave early; this internship is
importanttome.”
“Babe,relax.Hementionedthathewouldbeoutalldayandhewastheone
whobroughtupyouleavingearly.”
“Idon’twantanyonetothinkIamtakingadvantageofthisopportunity.”
“Noonethinksthat.YourGPAandyourworkspeakforthemselves.”
“Wait . . . so then why didn’t you just call me and tell me I could come
home?”Iraiseabrowathim.
“Ihavewantedtobendyouoverthatdesksinceyourfirstdayhere.”Hegives
measmugsmileandgrabsmyjacketforme.
Iwanttotellhimhowcrazyheistocomeherejusttohavesexwithmeonthe
desk,butIcan’tdenythatIlovedit.LookingathiminthatT-shirtwiththose
inkedmuscles,Icouldneverdenyhimanything.
ASWEWALKtoourcars,hesquintsatthesunandsays,“Iwasthinkingwe
shouldgogetwhateverwearegoingtoweartothatdreadfulwedding.”
“Goodidea,”Iagree.“ButI’mdrivingyourcarbackhomeandwecanleave
mycar, thengo.” I jumpintohis carbeforehe canprotest.He justshakeshis
headandsmiles.
Afterdroppingmycaroff,wegotothemall.Hardinwhinesandcomplains
likeachildtheentiretimeandIliterallyhavetocoercehimwithsexualbribesto
gethimtobuyatie.Heendsupgettingblackdresspants,ablackjacket,awhite
dress shirt, and a black tie. Simple, but perfect for him. He refuses to try
everythingon,soIhopeitallactuallyfitshim.Hewouldtakeanyexcusenotto
go to the wedding, but I am not going to let that happen. Once we get him
settled,it’smyturn.
“Thewhiteone,”hesaysandgesturestotheshortwhitedressinmyhand,the
other option being a longer black one. Since Karen mentioned that the color
scheme was black and white, I figured I would stick to it. Hardin seemed to
reallylikethewhitedressIworeyesterday,soIdecidetolistentohim.Muchto
my annoyance, before I realize what he’s doing, Hardin goes from “just
carrying”mydressandshoestopayingforthem.WhenIprotest,theyounggirl
attheregistersmilesandshrugsasiftosay,“Whatdoyouexpectmetodo?”
“Ihavetodosomeworktonight,soIwon’tbehomefordinner,”hetellsme
aswewalkoutofthemall.
“Oh.Ithoughtyouworkedfromhome.”
“Ido,butIneedtogotothelibraryforalittlebit,”heexplains.“Iwon’tbe
gonetoolate.”
“I’lljustgogroceryshoppingwhileyouaregone,”Itellhimandhenods.
“Becarefulandgobeforeitgetsdark,”hesays.
Hemakesmealistofthingshelikesandleavesassoonaswegetbacktothe
apartment. I change into jeans and a sweatshirt and walk to the grocery store
downthestreet.WhenIgetbackhome,Iputeverythingaway,catchuponsome
homework, and make myself something to eat. I text Hardin but don’t hear
anythingback,soIputaplateoffoodinthemicrowaveforhimtoheatupwhen
hegetshomeandlieonthecouchtowatchtelevision.
chaptereighty-nine
WhenIwakeup,ittakesmeafewmomentstorealizeIamstillonthecouch.
“Hardin?” I call out, untangling myself from the blanket. I walk to the
bedroominthehopeshewillbeinthere.Buttheroomisempty.Wherethehell
ishe?
Igobacktothelivingroomandsnatchmyphoneoffthebackofthecouch.
Still no messages from him—and it’s seven in the morning. I call, but get his
voicemail and hang up. I storm around the kitchen and turn on the coffeepot
beforeheadingtothebathroomtotakeashower.I’mluckyIwokeupontime,
becauseIdidn’tactuallysetmyalarm.Ineverforgettosetanalarm.
“Whereareyou?”Isayaloudandstepintotheshower.
As I blow-dry my hair, I go over the possible explanations for his absence.
Lastnight I thought he justgot caughtup with his work, sincehe hasa lotto
makeupforormaybeheranintosomeoneheknewandthetimeslippedaway
fromhim.Butatthelibrary?Thosethingsclosefairlyearly,andevenbarsclose
eventually. The most likely explanation is that he went to a party. I somehow
knowthisiswhathappened.Asmallpartofmestillworriesthatmaybehewas
inanaccident;thethoughtalonehurtstoobadtoevenentertain.Butnomatter
whatexcuseorstoryIconjureupinmymind,Iknowheisdoingsomethinghe
isn’tsupposedto.Everythingwasgoodbetweenuslastnightandthenhegoes
andstaysoutallnight?
Innomoodtowearadress,Iputononeofmyoldblackpencilskirtsanda
softpinkbutton-upshirt.Cloudscovertheskymyentiredrive,andbythetimeI
gettoVancemymoodhasdarkenedtomatchthemandI’minfuriated.Whothe
helldoeshethinkheistostayoutallnightwithouteventellingme?
Kimberly raises a brow at me when I walk past the donut table without
grabbing one, but I give her my best fake smile and walk to my office. My
morning passes in a daze. I read and reread the same pages over and over
withoutcomprehendinganyofthewords.
There is a knock on my door, and my heart stops. I desperately hope it’s
Hardin,regardlessofhowpissedIamathim.Insteadit’sKimberly.
“Doyouwanttogogetlunchwithme?”sheaskssweetly.
I almost decline her offer, but sitting here obsessing over my boyfriend’s
whereaboutsisnothelpingmeonebit.
Ismile.“Sure.”
Wewalkaroundthecornertoasmallcantina-styleMexicanrestaurant.Bythe
time we get inside we’re both shivering, and she asks to be seated close to a
heater.Thesmalltablewearegivenisdirectlyunderneathaheater,andweboth
raiseourhandsintheairtowarmup.
“Thisweatherisunforgiving,”shesaysandprattlesonaboutbeingcoldand
alreadymissingsummer.
“Ialmostforgothowcoldthewinteris,”Itellherplainly.Theseasonshave
blendedtogether,andIbarelynoticedfallslippingaway.
“So...howarethingswithMr.BadAss?”sheaskswithalaugh.
The server brings us chips and salsa, and my stomach growls. I am not
skippingmymorningdonutanymore.
“Well...”Idebatewhethertosharemypersonallifewithher.Idon’thave
many friends. None, really, excluding Steph, whom I never see anymore.
Kimberly is at least ten years older than me and maybe she has some good
insightintothemindsofmen,somethingIcertainlylackin.Istareattheceiling
coveredinstringsofbeer-bottle-shapedlightsandtakeadeepbreath.
“Well,Iamactuallynotsurehowthingsareatthemoment.Yesterdaythings
werefinebutthenhestayedoutlastnight.Allnight.Itwasoursecondnightin
theapartmentandhejustnevercamehome,”Iexplain.
“Wait...wait...backup.Okay,soyoutwolivetogether?”Shegapes.
“Yeah...asofTuesday.”Itrytosmile.
“Okay,sothenhejustdidn’tcomehomelastnight?”
“Nope. He said he had to do some work and go by the library, but then he
didn’tcomehome.”
“Andyoudon’tthinkhe’shurtoranything,right?”
“No,Ireallydon’t.”IfeelasifIwouldsomehowknowifhewasn’tokay,like
wearetiedtogetherinsomewaythatwouldimmediatelyletmeknowifhewas
hurt.
“Hehasn’tcalled?”
“Nope.Ortexted.”Ifrown.
“IwouldhavehisballsifIwereyou.Thisisunacceptable,”sheproclaims.
Theserver stopsby tosay,“Your food will be out shortly,”and fillsup my
water. I’m a little thankful for the small interruption, to give me a chance to
catchmybreathafterKimberly’sharshwords.
Andthenshegoeson,andwhenIrealizeshe’snotjudgingmebutstickingup
forme,Ifeelbetter.“Imeanit—youhavetomakeitclearthathecan’tbehave
thisway;otherwisehewillkeepdoingit.Theproblemwithmenisthattheyare
creaturesofhabit,andifyouletthisbehishabit,you’llneverbeabletobreakit.
Heneedstoknowfromthestartthatyouwon’tputupwiththisshit.Heislucky
tohaveyouandheneedstogethisshittogether.”
Somethingaboutherpeptalkgivesmemoreconfidenceinmyanger.Ishould
bepissed.Ishould“havehisballs,”asKimberlysosubtlyputit.
“HowdoIdothat?”Iaskandshelaughs.
“Lethimhaveit.Unlesshehasadamnedgoodexcuse,whichIamsureheis
plottingright now, you let him have it the second he walks through that door.
You deserve to be respected, and if he isn’t respecting you, then you need to
eithermakehimorkickhimtothecurb.”
“Youmakeitsoundsoeasy.”Ilaugh.
“Oh, it’s far from easy.” She laughs, then grows serious. “But it has to be
done.”
Therestofourlunchisfilledwithstoriesofhercollegelifeandhowshehas
hadherfairshareofterriblerelationships.Herblondbobswaysbackandforth
assheshakesherheadduringalmosteverystory.Ifindmyselflaughingsohard
Ihavetodabthecornersofmyeyes.ThefoodisdeliciousandIamgladIcame
outtolunchwithherinsteadofsulkingaloneinmyoffice.
Onthewaybacktomyoffice,Trevorspotsmefromneartherestroomsand
comesover,smiling.“Hello,Tessa.”
“Hey,howareyou?”Iaskpolitely.
“I’mokay.It’sawfullycoldoutthere,”hesaysandInod.“Youlooklovely
today,” he adds and looks away. I get the feeling he didn’t mean to say that
aloud. I smile and thank him before he heads into the bathroom, obviously
embarrassed.
By the time I leave, I have gotten literally no work done so I take the
manuscript home with me in hopes of making up for my lack of motivation
today.
When I arrive back at the apartment, Hardin’s car still isn’t in the lot. My
anger returns, and I call him and cuss him out on his voicemail, which
surprisinglymakesmefeelalittlebetter.Imakemyselfaquickdinnerandget
mythingsreadyfortomorrow.
Ican’tbelieveit’sonlytwodaysuntilthewedding.Whatifhedoesn’tcome
backbeforethen?Hewill.Won’the?Ilookaroundtheapartment.Ascharming
asitis,itseemstohavelostsomeofitsglowinHardin’sabsence.
SomehowImanagetogetagoodamountofworkdoneandamjustputting
everythingawaywhenthedooropens.Hardinstumblesthroughthelivingroom
andintothebedroomwithoutsayingaword.Ihearhimtosshisbootsontothe
floorandcurseathimself,mostlikelyforfallingover.IgooverwhatKimberly
saidatlunchtodayandgatherallmythoughts,pushingmyangertoitshead.
“Wherethehellwereyou?”IyellasIentertheroom.Hardinhashisshirtoff
andisremovinghispants.
“Goodtoseeyou,too,”heslurs.
“Areyoudrunk?”Igape.
“Maybe,”heanswers,andtosseshispantsontothefloor.
I huff and pick them up, throwing them at him. “We have a hamper for a
reason.”Iglareandhelaughs.
Heislaughing.Laughingatme.
“You have some nerve, Hardin! You stay out all night and most of the day
todaywithoutevencallingme,andthenyoustumbleinheredrunkandmakefun
ofme?”Iscream.
“Stopyelling.Ihaveakillerheadache,”hegroansandliesonthebed.
“Doyouthinkthisisfunny?Isthissomesortofgametoyou?Ifyouaren’t
going to take our relationship seriously, then why did you ask me to move in
withyou?”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now. You’re overreacting; now, come
overhereandletmemakeyouhappy.”Hiseyesarebloodshotfromtheamount
ofalcoholheconsumed.Heholdshisarmsoutformewithastupiddrunkengrin
onhisperfectface.
“No,Hardin,”Isaysternly.“I’mserious.Youcan’tjuststayoutallnightand
notevenoffermeanexplanation.”
“Jesus. Would you chill the fuck out? You’re not my mother. Stop fighting
withmeandcomehere,”herepeats.
“Getout,”Isnap.
“Excuseme?”Hesitsup.NowIhavehisattention.
“You heard me, get out. I will not be that girl who sits at home all night
waitingonherboyfriendtocomehome.Iexpectedyoutoatleastcomeupwith
agoodexcuse—butyouhaven’teventried!I’mnotgoingtogiveinthistime,
Hardin. I always forgive you way too easily. Not this time. So either explain
yourselforgetthehellout.”Icrossmyarms,proudofmyselffornotgivingin
tohim.
“Incaseyouforgot,Iamtheonepayingthebillshere,soifanyoneisgoingto
leave,itwillbeyou,”hesayswithablankstare.
Iglancedownathishandsonhisknees;hisknucklesareyetagainbustedand
coveredindriedblood.
MymindisstilltryingtocomeupwitharesponsewhenIask,“Didyougetin
afightagain?”
“Doesitmatter?”
“Yes,Hardin!Itdoesmatter.Isthatwhatyouweredoingallnight?Fighting
people?Youdidn’tevenhavetowork,didyou?Oristhatyourjob,beatingup
people?”
“What?No,that’snotmyjob.Youknowwhatmyjobis.Ididwork,thenI
gotdistracted,”hesaysandswipeshishandoverhisface.
“By?”
“Nothing.Jesus,”hegroans.“Youarealwaysonmycase.”
“I’malwaysonyourcase?Whatdidyouexpecttohappenwhenyoustumbled
inhereafterbeinggoneallnightandday!Ineedanswers,Hardin—Iamsickof
younotgivingmethem.”Heignoresmeandpullsashirtoverhishead.“Iwas
worriedallday;youcouldhaveatleastcalledme.Iwasamesstodaywhileyou
were out drinking and doing God knows what. You are messing with my
internship,andthatisnotokay.”
“Yourinternship?Youmeantheonethatmyfathergotyou?”hesayswithhis
foulmouth.
“You’reunbelievable.”
“Justsaying.”Heshrugs.
How is this the same person who just two nights go was whispering how
muchhelovesmeintomyearwhilehethoughtIwasasleep?
“I’mnotevengoingtorespondtothat,becauseIknowthat’swhatyouwant.
YouwantafightandIwon’tgiveyouone.”IgraboneofmyT-shirtsandstalk
outoftheroom.BeforeIexit,Iturnbacktohim.“Butletmemakethisclear:if
youdon’tgetyourshittogether—likenow—I’mgone.”
Iheadtothe couch andliedown,grateful for anotherspacetobewhere he
isn’t.IallowafewtearstofallbeforewipingmyfaceandpickingupHardin’s
oldcopyofWutheringHeights.NomatterhowbadI wanttogobackinthere
andmakehimexplaineverythingtome—wherehewas,whohewaswith,why
hegotintoafight,andwithwhom—Iforcemyselftostayonthecouchbecause
thatwillbotherhimmuchmore.
Thoughprobablynothalfasmuchasthelevelofcontrolhehasoverpartsof
mylifeisbotheringme.
chapterninety
Iputdownmybookandcheckthetimeonmyphone.It’salittleaftermidnight,
soIshouldtrytoforcemyselftogotosleep.Healreadytriedtogetmetocome
tobedearlier,sayinghecouldn’tsleepwithoutme,butIstucktomygunsand
ignoredhimuntilheleft.
I’mjustabouttodriftintosleepwhenIhearHardinscream,“No!!”Ijumpoff
thecouchwithoutthinkingandrushtoourbedroom.Heisthrashinginthethick
blanketandcoveredinsweat.
“Hardin,wakeup,”Isaygentlyandshakehisshoulder,movingasoakedcurl
fromhisforeheadwithmyotherhand.
Hiseyessnapopen—theyarefullofterror.
“It’sokay...shh...itwasjustanightmare.”Idomybesttosoothehim.My
fingersplayinhishairandthenbrushoverhischeek.HeisshakingasIclimb
intobedbehindhimand wrap myarmsaroundhis waist. I feelhimrelaxasI
pressmyfaceagainsthisclammyskin.
“Please. Stay with me,” he begs. I sigh and stay quiet, tightening my grip
aroundhim.“Thankyou,”hewhispers,andwithinminutesheisasleepagain.
THEWATERDOESN’TSEEMtogethotenoughtorelaxmytensemusclesno
matterhowhighIturnitup.Iamexhaustedfromthelackofsleeplastnightand
thefrustrationthatcomesfromdealingwithHardin.HewasasleepwhenIgot
intotheshower,andIprayhestaysthatwayuntilIleaveformyinternship.
Unfortunately,myprayersgounanswered,andhe isstandingbythekitchen
counterwhenIgetoutofthebathroom.
“Youlookbeautifultoday,”hesayscalmly.
IrollmyeyesandwalkpasthimtograbacupofcoffeebeforeIhavetoleave.
“Soyouaren’tspeakingtome,then?”
“Notrightnow,no.IhavetogotoworkandIdon’thavetheenergytodothis
withyou,”Isnap.
“Butyou...youcametobedwithme,”hepouts.
“Yeah,onlybecauseyouwerescreamingandshaking.Thatdoesn’tmeanyou
areforgiven.Ineedanexplanationforeverything,allthesecrets,allthefights—
eventhenightmares—orI’mdone,”Isurprisehimandmyselfbysaying.
Hegroansandrunshishandsthroughhishair.“Tessa...it’snotthatsimple.”
“Yeah,itis,actually.Itrustedyouenoughtogiveupmyrelationshipwithmy
motherand move in with you so soon; you should trust me enough to tell me
whatisgoingon.”
“Youwon’tunderstand.Iknowyouwon’t,”hesays.
“Tryme.”
“I...Ican’t,”hestutters.
“ThenIcan’tbewithyou.I’msorry,butIhavegivenyoualotofchancesand
youkeep—”Ibegin.
“Don’tsaythat.Don’tyoudaretryandleaveme.”Histoneisangry,buthis
eyesarehurt.
“Thengivemesomeanswers.WhatisitthatyouthinkIwouldn’tunderstand?
Aboutyournightmares?”Iask.
“Tellmeyouaren’tgoingtoleaveme,”hepleads.
Standing my ground with Hardin is proving to be much harder than I
imagined,especiallywhenhelookssobroken.
“Ihavetogo.Iamalreadyrunninglate,”Itellhimandgotothebedroomto
getdressedasquicklyasIcan.Partofmeishappythathedoesn’tfollowme,
butpartofmewisheshewould.
Heisstillstandinginthekitchen,shirtless,andgrippinghiscoffeemugwith
whiteandbustedknuckleswhenIleave.
I mull over everything Hardin said this morning. What could I possibly not
understand? I would never judge him for something that causes him to have
nightmares. I hope that is what he was talking about, but I can’t ignore the
feelingthatIammissingsomethingveryobvioushere.
Ifeelguiltyandtensealmostallday,butKimberlyemailsmethelinkstoone
toomanyfunnyYouTubevideos formysourmoodtolast.Bylunch,Ialmost
forgettheproblemathome.
I’msorryforeverything,pleasecomehomeafterwork,HardintextswhileKimberlyandI
eatfromamuffinbasketsomeonesentMr.Vance.
“Isthathim?”sheasks.
“Yeah...”Itellher.“Istooduptohim,butIfeelterrible,forsomereason.I
knowIamright,butyoushouldhaveseenhimthismorning.”
“Good. Hopefully he learns his lesson. Did he tell you where he was?” she
asks.
“Nope.That’stheproblem.”Igroanandeatanothermuffin.
Pleaseanswerme,Tessa.Iloveyou,hesendsminuteslater.
“Justanswerthepoorguy.”KimberlysmilesandInod.
Iwillbehome,Irespond.
Why is it so hard for me to hold my ground with him? Mr. Vance lets
everyonego alittle after three,so Idecide to stop by asalon andget myhair
trimmed and a manicure for the wedding tomorrow. I hope Hardin and I can
workthisoutbeforethewedding,becausethelastthingIwanttodoistakean
alreadyangryHardintohisfather’swedding.
BythetimeIgethomeit’salmostsixo’clockandIhavemultipletextsfrom
Hardin, which I have ignored. When I get to our door I take a deep breath to
mentallyprepareforwhatistocome.Eitherwewillendupscreamingateach
other,whichwillleadtooneofusleaving,orwewillactuallytalkthroughitand
work it out. Hardin is pacing back and forth across the cement floor when I
enter.Hiseyesshootuptomyfigureinthedoorway,andhelooksrelieved.
“Ithoughtyouweren’tcoming,”hesaysandstepstowardme.
“Where else would I go?” I say in response and walk past him into the
bedroom.
“I...well,Imadedinnerforyou,”hesays.
Heistotallyunrecognizablerightnow. Hishairisdownacrosshisforehead
insteadofpushedupandbacklikeitnormallyis.Heiswearingagrayhooded
sweatshirt and black sweats and he seems nervous, worried, and almost . . .
afraid?
“Oh . . . why?” I can’t help but ask. I change into sweats of my own, and
Hardin’sfacefallsfartherwhenIdon’tputontheshirtofhisthathehasclearly
laidonthedresserforme.
“BecauseIamanasshole,”heanswers.
“Yeah . . . you are,” I say and walk back into the kitchen. The meal looks
muchmoreappetizingthanIthoughtitwould,eventhoughI’mnotsurewhatit
is;somesortofchickenpasta,Ithink.
“It’schickenFlorentine.”Heanswersmythoughts.
“Hmm.”
“Youdon’thaveto...”Hisvoiceissmall.Thisissuchadifferentscenethan
usual,andforthefirsttimesinceImethimIfeellikeIhavetheupperhand.
“No,itlooksgood.I’mjustsurprised,”Itellhimandtakeabite.Ittasteseven
betterthanitlooks.
“Yourhairlooksnice,”hesays.MythoughtstravelbacktothelasttimeIhad
ahaircutandHardinwastheonlyonetonotice.
“Ineedanswers,”Iremindhim.
Heletsoutahardbreath.“Iknow,andIamgoingtogivethemtoyou.”
Itakeanotherbitetohidemysatisfactionwithmyselfforholdingmyground
withhim.
“First,Iwantyoutoknowthatnoone—Imeannoone,exceptmymotherand
father—knowsthis,”hesaysandpicksatthescabsonhisknuckles.
Inodandtakeanotherbite.
“Okay...well,heregoes,”hesaysnervouslybeforecontinuing.“Onenight,
whenIwasaroundseven,myfatherwasoutatthebaracrossthestreetfromour
home.Hewenttherealmosteverynightandeveryoneknewhimthere,whichis
whyitwasaterribleideaforhimtopissanyoneoffthere.Thisnight,hedidjust
that.Hestartedafightwithsomesoldierswhowerejustasplasteredashimand
heendedupsmashingabeerbottleoveroneoftheirheads.”
Ihavenoideawherethisisgoing,butIknowitwon’tbepleasant.
“Keepeating,please...”hebegsandInodandtrynottostareathimashe
continues.
“Heleftthebar,andtheycameacrosstheroadtoourhouse,topayhimback
forsmashingtheguy’sface,Iguess.Theproblemwasthathedidn’tcomehome
—theyjustthoughthedid,andmymumwasasleeponthecouch,waitingupfor
mydad.”Hisgreeneyesmeetmine.“Sortofhowyouwerelastnight.”
“Hardin...”Iwhisperandgrabhishandacrossthetable.
“Sowhentheyfoundmymumfirst...”Hetrailsoffandstaresatthewallfor
what feels like forever. “When I heard her screaming, I came downstairs and
tried to get them off her. Her nightgown was ripped open and she just kept
screamingfor me to go .. .she wastrying tokeep me fromseeing whatthey
weredoingtoher,butIcouldn’tjustleave,youknow?”
Whenheblinksbackatear,myheartbreaksfortheseven-year-oldboywho
hadtowatchthosehorrendousthingshappentohismother.Iclimbontohislap
onthechairandputmyfaceagainsthisneck.
“Longstoryshort,Itriedtofightthemoff,butitdidn’tdoanygood.Bythe
timemyfatherstumbledthroughthedoor,IhadputanentireboxofBand-Aids
alloverherbodytotryto...Idon’tknow...fixherorsomething.Howstupid
isthat?”heasksintomyhair.
Ilookupathimandhefrowns.“Don’tcry...”hewhispers,butIcan’thelp
it.Ineverimaginedhisnightmareswerefromsomethingsoterrible.
“I’msorryImadeyoutellme,”Isob.
“No...baby,it’sokay.Itactuallyfeltgoodtotellsomeone,”heassuresme.
“Asgoodasitcanfeel.”
Hepetsmyhairandwindspartofitaroundhisfinger,lostinthought.“After
that,Iwouldonlysleepdownstairsonthecouch,soifsomeonecamein...they
wouldgettomefirst.Thenthenightmarescame...andtheyjustkindofstuck.
Iwenttoafewtherapistsoncemyfatherleft,butnothingseemedtohelp,until
you.”Hegivesmeaweaksmile.“I’msorryIwasoutallnight.Idon’twantto
bethatguy.Idon’twanttobehim,”hesaysandhugsmetighter.
Now that I have a few more pieces of the puzzle that is Hardin, I can
understandhimmore.Andjustassuddenlyasmymoodhasshiftedabouthim,
myopinionofKenhaschangedjustasdrastically.Iknowpeoplechange,andhe
obviouslyhasimprovedhimselffromthekindofmanheusedtobe,butIcan’t
helptheangerbubblinginsideme.Hardinisthewayheisbecauseofhisfather,
because of the drinking, the negligence, and the terrible night that his father
provoked an attack against his wife and son, and then wasn’t there to protect
them. I didn’t get all the answers I wanted, but I got much more than I ever
expected.
“I won’t do it again . . . I swear . . . Just please tell me you won’t leave
me...”hemutters.
Every ounce of anger and entitlement I felt has evaporated. “I won’t leave
you,Hardin.Iwon’tleaveyou.”Andbecause he looks at me like he needs to
hearit,Isayitafewmoretimes.
“Iloveyou,Tessa,morethananything,”hesaysandwipesmytears.
chapterninety-one
Wehaven’tmovedfromourspotinthechairforatleastthirtyminutes,when
finallyHardinliftshisheadfrommychestandsays,“CanIeatnow?”
“Yes.”Igivehimaweaksmileandstarttoclimboffhislap,buthepullsme
back.
“Ididn’tsayforyoutomove.Justslidemyplateover.”Hesmiles.
I slide his plate over and reach for mine across the small table. I am still
reelingfromthisnewinformationandnowIfeelalittleuneasyaboutgoingto
theweddinginthemorning.
SensingHardindoesn’twanttodiscusshisconfessionfurther,Itakeabiteoff
myplateandsay,“YouareamuchbettercookthanIexpected.Havingshown
yourhand,Iexpectyou’llcookformemoreoften.”
“Wewillsee,”hesayswithhismouthfullandweeattherestofthemealina
comfortablesilence.
Later, when I’m loading the dishwasher, he walks up behind me and asks,
“Areyoustillmad?”
“Notexactly,”Itellhim.“Iamstillnothappyaboutyoubeingoutallnight,
andIdowanttoknowwhoyoufought,andwhy.”Heopenshismouthtospeak,
butIstophim.“Butnottonight.”Idon’tthinkeitherofuscanhandleanymore
tonight.
“Okay,”hesayssoftly.WorryflashesinhiseyesbutIchoosetoletitgo.
“Oh, and I didn’tappreciate you throwing my internship in my face, either.
Thatreallyhurtmyfeelings.”
“Iknow.That’swhyIsaidit,”heanswers,alittletoohonestly.
“Iknow.That’sexactlywhyIdon’tlikeit.”
“I’msorry.”
“Don’tdoitagain,okay?”Itellhimandhenods.“I’mexhausted,”Igroanin
asmallattempttochangethesubject.
“Me,too;let’sliedownfortherestoftheevening.Igotthecableturnedon.”
“Iwassupposedtobedoingthat.”Iscowlathim.
Herollshis eyes andsits next tomeon thebed.“You can justgive me the
moneyforit...”
I stare at the wall. “What time are we leaving here tomorrow for the
wedding?”
“Wheneverwefeellikeit.”
“Itstartsatthree,soIthinkweshouldbetherebytwo,”Isay.
“Anhourearly?”he whines andInod. “I don’tknowwhy you insist—”he
saysbutiscutoffbymyphoneringing.
ThelookonHardin’sfaceasheleansoverandgrabsittellsmeimmediately
whoitis.“Whyishecalling?”hehuffs.
“Idon’tknow,Hardin,butIthinkIshouldanswer.”Igrabthephonefromhis
hand.
“Noah?”MyvoiceissoftandshakyasHardin’sglowerburnsaholethrough
theapartment.
“Hey, Tessa, I’m sorry to call you on a Friday night but . . . well . . .” He
soundspanicked.
“What?” I push, since he always takes longer than necessary to explain
stressfulsituations.
WhenIlookovertoHardinhemouths,“Speaker.”
I give him an are-you-kidding look, but end up putting Noah on speaker
anywaysoHardincaneavesdrop.
“Your mom got a call from the dorm supervisor about your final bill being
paidfortheroom,sosheknowsyoumovedout.ItoldherIhavenoideawhere
you live now, which is the truth, but she refused to believe me. And so she’s
comingthere.”
“Cominghere?Tocampus?”
“Yeah,Iguess.Idon’tknow,butshesaidshe’sgoingtofindyou,andshe’s
being irrational and is really pissed-off. I just wanted to warn you, you know,
thatshe’scoming.”
“I can’t believe her!” I shout into the phone, but then thank Noah before
hangingup.
Iliebackonthebed.“Great...Whatanexcellentwaytospendtonight.”
Hardinleansononeelbownexttome.“Shewon’tbeabletofindyou.Noone
knowswherewelive,”heassuresmeandsmoothsmybangsoffmyforehead.
“She may not find me, but she sure will pester Steph and ask every single
personsheseesinthedormandmakeahugescene.”Icovermyfacewithmy
hands.“Ishouldjustgooverthere.”
“Or you could call her and give her our address and let her come here. On
yourterritory,soyouhavetheupperhand,”hesuggests.
“You’reokaywiththat?”Myhandsmovefrommyface.
“Ofcourse.She’syourmother,Tessa.”
Ilookathimquizzically,giventheriftbetweenhimandhisdad.ButwhenI
see he’s serious, I’m reminded that he’s willing to work on things with his
parents,soIshouldbethatbrave,too.“I’llcallher,”Isay.
I look at the phone for a while before taking a deep breath and hitting her
number.She’sterseonthephone,speakingveryquickly.Icantellshe’ssaving
allherhatefulenergyforwhensheseesmeinperson.Idon’tgiveheranydetails
abouttheapartmentortellherthatIlivehere;IonlytellhertheaddresswhereI
amandgetoffthephoneasfastasIcan.
Instinctively,Ijumpoutofbedandbegintostraightenupourplace.
“The apartment is already clean. Wehave barely touched anything,” Hardin
says.
“Iknow,”Isay.“Butitmakesmefeelbetter.”
AfterIfoldandputawaythefewitemsofclothingthatwereonthefloor,I
lightacandleinthelivingroomandwaitatthetablewithHardinformymother
toshow.Ishouldn’tbeasnervousasIam—I’manadultandImakemyown
choices—but I know her and how badly she’s going to lose it. I am already
overlyemotionalfromthebriefglimpseintoHardin’spastIwasgrantedanhour
ago,andIdon’tknowifIhaveitinmetogotobattlewithhertonight.Ilook
overattheclockandseeit’salreadyeight.Hopefullyshewon’tstaylong,and
HardinandIcangettobedearlyandjustholdeachotherwhileweeachtryto
dealwithourfamilylegacies.
“Do you want me to stay out here with you or give you two some time to
discusseverything?”Hardinasksafterabit.
“Ithinkweshould have alittletimeone-on-one,”I say.Asmuchas I want
himbymyside,Iknowthathispresencewillantagonizeher.
“Wait...IjustrememberedsomethingNoahsaid.Hesaidthefinalbillfor
mydormwaspaid.”Ilookathimquestioningly.
“Yeah...so?”
“Youpaidit,didn’tyou!”Ihalf-shout.Despitemyenergy,it’snotreallyoutof
anger,justsurpriseandannoyance.
“So...”Heshrugs.
“Hardin! You have got to stop spending money on me; it makes me
uncomfortable.”
“Idon’tseewhatthebigdealis.Itwasn’tthatmuch,”heargues.
“Whatareyoulikesecretlyrichorsomething?Areyousellingdrugs?”
“No,Ijustsavedupalotofmoneyanddon’treallyspendit.Ilivedentirely
forfreelastyearwhileIworked,somypaychecksjustkeptpilingup.Inever
reallyhadanythingtospendmoneyon...butnowIdo.”Hesmileswide.“And
Ilikespendingitonyou,sodon’tfightmeoverit.”
“You’reluckymymotherisonherwayandIonlyhaveitinmetogotowar
withoneofyou,”Iteaseandheletsoutalongchucklethatfadesuntilwe’rejust
sitting,holdinghandsandwaiting.
Afewminuteslaterthereisaknock...well,apoundingatthedoor.
Hardin stands. “I’ll be right in the other room. I love you.” He gives me a
swiftkissbeforeexiting.
IfillmylungswiththedeepestbreathIcanmanageandopenthedoor.My
mother looks eerily perfect, as always. Not a single smudge mars her heavily
made-upeyes,herredlipstickissmoothandsilky,herblondhairisneatlypiled
almostinahaloaroundherhead.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing moving out of that dorm without
telling me!” she shouts without introduction and pushes past me into the
apartment.
“Youdidn’tgivememuchofachoice,”Icounter,thenfocusonbreathingin
andouttostayascalmasIcan.
Shespinsbacktoglareatme.“Excuseme?HowdidInotgiveyouachoice?”
“Youthreatenedtonothelpmepayformydorm,”Iremindherandcrossmy
arms.
“So,Igaveyouachoice,butyoumadethewrongone,”shesnaps.
“No,you’retheonewho’swronghere.”
“Listentoyou!Lookatyou.Youaren’tthesameTessathatIdroppedoffat
collegethreemonthsago.”Shewavesherarmstogestureupanddownmybody.
“You are defying me, even yelling at me! You have some nerve! I have done
everythingforyou,andhereyouare...throwingitallaway.”
“Iamnotthrowinganythingaway!Ihaveanexcellentinternshipthatpaysme
very well; I have a car, and a four-point-oh grade point average. What more
couldyoupossiblywantfromme?”Ishoutback.
Hereyes lightup fromthe challenge,and hervoice isfull ofvenom asshe
says,“Well,forstarters,youcouldhaveatleastchangedyourclothesbeforeI
came.Honestly,Tessa,youlooklikehell.”AsIlookdownatmypajamas,she
switchestoanewcriticism.“Andwhatisthis...youwearmakeupnow?Who
are you? You’re not my Theresa, that is for certain. My Theresa wouldn’t be
hanging out in some devil worshipper’s apartment in her pajamas on a Friday
night.”
“Donotspeakabouthimthatway,”Isaythroughmyteeth.“Ihavealready
warnedyou.”
Mymothersquintshereyesandcackles.Herheadfallsbackinlaughter,andI
fighttheurgetosmackheracrossherperfectlypainted-onface.Iimmediately
cringeatmyviolentthoughts,butshe’spushingmetoofar.
“And another thing,” I say slowly, calmly, to make sure I deliver the
pronouncementjustso.“Thisisn’tjusthisapartment.Itisourapartment.”
Andjustlikethat,Igethertostoplaughing.
chapterninety-two
ThiswomanI’velivedwithvalueshersenseofcontrolsomuchthatthereare
fewtimesI’vemanagedtosurpriseher,letalonestunher.Buthere,Ihavereally,
trulystunnedmymother.Herpostureiserectandherfacehasfallen.
“Whatdidyoujustsay?”sheasksslowly.
“You heard me. This is our apartment—as in, we both live here.” I put my
handsonmyhipsfordramaticeffect.
“Thereisnowaythatyoulivehere.Youcan’taffordaplacelikethis!”she
scoffs.
“Wouldyouliketoseeourlease?BecauseIhaveacopy.”
“ThiswholesituationisevenworsethanIthought...”shesays,thenshifts
her eyes to stare behind me, as if I’m not even worth looking at while she
calculatesherformulaformylife.“Iknewyouwerebeingfoolishbymessing
aroundwiththat...thatboy.Butyouarejustplainstupidformovinginwith
him! You don’t even know him! You haven’t met his parents—aren’t you
embarrassedtobeseeninpublicwithhim?”
Myanger boilsover.I glance atthe wall,trying to gathersome composure,
butit’stoomuchandbeforeIcanstopmyself,Iaminherface.“Howdareyou
come into my home and insult him! I know him better than anyone, and he
knows me better than you ever could! And I have actually met his family, his
father at least. You want to know who his father is? He’s the goddamn
chancellorofWCU!”Iscream. “That shouldsatisfy yoursad little judgmental
streak.”
IhatethrowingHardin’sfather’stitlearound,butthisisthetypeofthingthat
wouldjolther.
Probably because he heard the break in my voice, Hardin comes out of the
bedroom with a worriedexpression. He comesover and stands beside me and
triestopullmebackfrommymother,justlikelasttime.
“Oh,great!Andhere’sthemanofthehour,”mymothermocks,andgestures
wildlyathim.“Hisfatherisnotthechancellor.”Shehalf-laughs.
My face is red and soaked with tears, but I couldn’t care less. “Yes, he is.
Shocked? If you weren’t so busy being a judgmental bitch, you could have
talked to him and found that out. You know what? You don’t even deserve to
know him. He has been there for me in ways you never were, and there is
nothing—andImeannothing—youcandotokeepmeawayfromhim!”
“Youdonotspeaktomethatway!”shescreamsandstepscloser.“Youthink
justbecauseyougotyourselfafancylittleapartmentandputsomeeyelineron
thatyouaresuddenlyawoman?Honey,Ihatetobreakittoyou,butyoulook
likeawhore,livingwithsomeoneateighteen!”
Hardin’seyesnarrowatherinwarning,butsheignoreshim.
“Youbetterendthisbeforeyouloseyourvirtue,Tessa.Justtakealookinthe
mirror,thenlookathim!Youtwolookridiculoustogether;youhadNoah,who
wasgreatforyou,andyouthrewhimoutfor...this!”ShegesturestoHardin.
“Noahhasnothingtodowiththis,”Isay.
Hardin’sjawclenchesandIsilentlybeghimnottosayanything.
“Noahlovesyou,andIknowyoulovehim.Nowstopthisrebelliouscharade
andcomewithme.Iwillgetyoubackintoyourdorm,andNoahwillcertainly
forgiveyou.”Shereachesahandoutauthoritatively,asifI’lltakeitandstroll
outofherewithher.
I grab the bottom of my shirt with my fists. “You are so insane. Honestly,
Mother,listentoyourself!Idon’twanttocomewithyou.IliveherewithHardin
andIlovehim.NotNoah.IcareforNoah,butitwasonlyyourinfluencethat
made me think I loved him because I felt like I should. I am sorry, but I love
Hardinandhelovesme.”
“Tessa! He doesn’t love you—he is only going to stay around until he gets
intoyourpants.Openyoureyes,littlegirl!”
Something about the way she just called me “little girl” sends me over the
edge.
“Hehas already gotten into mypants, and guess what! He’s still around!”I
shout. Hardin and my mother share the same shocked expression, but my
mother’sturnstodisgustwhileHardin’sturnstoasympatheticfrown.
“I’ll tell you one thing, Theresa. When he breaks your heart and you have
nowheretogo...youbetternotcometome.”
“Oh,trustme,Iwouldn’t.Thisiswhy you’ll always be alone. You have no
controlovermeanymore—Iamanadult.Justbecauseyoucouldn’tcontrolmy
father doesn’t give you the right to try to control me!” As soon as the words
leavemy mouthI regretthem. Iknow bringingmy fatherinto thisis low, too
low.BeforeIcanapologize,Ifeelherhandconnectwithmycheek.Theshockis
morepainfulthantheassault.
Hardinstepsbetweenusandputshishandonhershoulder.Myfacestingsand
Ibitemyliptokeepfromcryingharder.
“If you don’t get the fuck out of our apartment, I will call the police,” he
warnsher.Thecalmtoneofhisvoicesendschillsdownmyspine,andInotice
mymothershiver,histoneclearlyunnervingher,too.
“Youwouldn’t.”
“Youjustputyourhandsonher,rightinfrontofme,andyouthinkIwouldn’t
callthe police onyou? If you weren’ther mum, I would do muchworse than
that.Nowyouhavefivesecondstogetout,”hesays,andIstareatmymother
withwideeyesandbringmyhandtomyburningskin.
I don’t like the way he threatened her, but I want her to leave. After a
challenging staring match between the two of them, Hardin growls, “Two
seconds.”
Shehuffsandheadstowardthedoor,theloudclamorofherheelsechoingoff
theconcretefloor.
“I hope you’re happy with your decision, Theresa,” she says and slams the
door.
Hardin’s arms wrap around me in the most comforting and reassuring
embrace,andit’sexactlywhatIneedrightnow.
“I’msosorry,baby,”hesaysintomyhair.
“I’msorrythatshesaidthoseterriblethingsaboutyou.”Myneedtodefend
himisstrongerthananyconcernformyselformymother.
“Shh. Don’t worry about me. People say shit about me all the time,” he
remindsme.
“Thatdoesn’tmakeitokay.”
“Tessa,pleasedon’tworryaboutmerightnow.Whatdoyouneed?CanIdo
anythingforyou?”heasks.
“Maybesomeice?”Ichoke.
“Sure,baby.”Hekissesmyforeheadandwalksovertothefridge.
Iknewhercomingherewouldn’tendwell,butIhadn’texpectedittobeas
badasitwas.OnonehandIambeyondproudofmyselfforstandinguptoher,
butatthesametimeIfeelterriblyguiltyforwhatIsaidaboutmyfather.Iknow
it wasn’t her fault that he left, and it’s never been lost on me that she’s been
terriblylonelyforthelasteightyears.Shehasneverevengoneonadatesince
him; she’s dedicated all of her time to me, grooming me into the woman she
wantedmetobe.Shewantsmetobejustlikeher,andthatjustisn’tgoing to
workforme.Irespectherandhowhardsheworked,butIneedtocarvemyown
pathand she hasto see thatshecan’tmakeup for hermistakesthrough me.I
maketoomanyofmyownmistakesforthattowork,anyway.Iwishshecould
behappyformeandseehowmuchIloveHardin.Iknowhisappearanceshocks
her,butifshewouldjusttakethetimetotrytogettoknowhim,I’msureshe
wouldlovehimasmuchIdo.
As long as he could contain his rudeness . . . which isn’tlikely, but I have
noticedthesmallchangesinhim.Likethewayheholdsmyhandinpublicand
thewayheleansdowntokissmenearlyeverytimeIpasshiminthehallwayof
ourapartment.MaybeIamtheonlypersonhewilleverletinside,theonlyone
whoherevealssecretsto,andtheonlyoneheloves,butthat’sfinewithme.To
behonest,theselfishpartofmekindofenjoysit.
Hardinpullsthechairoutnexttomeandputsthemakeshifticepackagainst
my cheek. The soft kitchen towel wrapped around it feels great against my
sensitiveskin.
“Ican’tbelieveshesmackedme,”Isayslowly.Thetoweldropsontothetile
floorandhereachesdowntopickitup.
“Meeither.IthoughtIwasgoingtoloseit,”hesaysandlooksintomyeyes.
“Ithoughtyouweretoo,”Iadmitandgivehimaweaksmile.
Ifeelliketodayhasbeendraggingonfortoolong;ithasbeenthelongestand
mostdrainingdayofmylife.I’mexhaustedandIjustwanttobecarriedaway.
PreferablyintobedwithHardin,toforgetaboutthedownfallofmyrelationship
withmymother.
“Iloveyoutoomuch,ortrustme,Iwouldhave.”Hesmilesbackandkisses
bothofmyclosedeyelids.
Ichoosetobelievethathewouldn’tactuallydoanythingtoher,thatheisjust
speaking metaphorically. Somehow I know that even through all his rage he
wouldn’tdosomethingterrible,andthatmakesmelovehimmore.Ihavecome
tolearnthatwhenitcomestome,Hardinismorebarkthanbite.
“Ireallywanttogotobed,”Itellhimandhenods.
“Ofcourse.”
Ipulltheblanketbackbeforelyingonmysideofthebed.“Doyouthinkshe
willalwaysbethisway?”IaskHardin.
Heshrugs,tossingasparepillowontothefloor.“Iwouldsayno,thatpeople
changeandmature.ButIdon’twanttogetyourhopesup.”
Iliedownonmystomach,buryingmyfaceinmypillow.
“Hey,”Hardinsayssoftlyagainstmyneck,trailingafingerdownthecurveof
myback.Irollover,sighingasItakeintheconcerninhiseyes.
“I’mfine,”Ilie.Ineedadistraction.Iliftmyhandtohisface,brushingmy
thumb over the curve of his full lips. I tilt the metal ring to the side and he
smiles.
“HavingfunstaringatmelikeI’msomescienceexperiment?”heteases.
I nod, wiggling the metal between my fingers and using my other hand to
touchtheringinhisbrow.
“Good to know.” He rolls his eyes and takes my thumb between his teeth
beforeIcanpullaway.Ijerkback,hittingmyhandagainsttheheadboard.
Imovetoswatathim,thewayIoftendo,andhegrabsmysorehandbetween
both of his and brings it to his mouth. I pout playfully until his tongue swirls
aroundthetipofmyindexfingerinthemostprovocativeway.Hecontinuesthis
across each fingertip until I’m a panting, needy mess—How does he do this?
Suchoddactsofaffectionfromhimaffectmesointensely.
“Feelgood?”heasks,droppingmyhandontomylap.Inodagain,atalossfor
words.“Wantmore?”Heswipeshistongueacrosshislips,wettingthem.Inod
again.
“Words,baby,”heinsists.
“Yes.More,please.”Mybrainclearlydoesn’twork.Ileanintohim,needing
histouch,needinghimtocontinuethedistraction.Heshiftsonthebed,tugging
atthestringsofmypajamapantswithonehandandpushinghishairbackfrom
hisforeheadwiththeother.Mypantiesarepulleddownandleftatmyanklesas
mypantshitthefloor.Heleansin,settlingbetweenmyspreadthighs.
“Did you know that the clitoris on the female body was made strictly for
pleasure? It has no purpose beyond that,” he informs me, pressing his thumb
against the bud. I groan, pushing my head into the pillow. “It’s true; I read it
somewhere.”
“Playboy?”Itease,strugglingtoformathought,letalonewords.
He seems to find that amusing and he smirks while lowering his head. The
moment his tongue finds my sex, I grip at the sheets and he works quickly,
combining his fingers with his perfect mouth. I push my hands into his hair,
silently thanking whoever it was who discovered this knowledge as Hardin
bringsmetoorgasm,twice.
Hardinholdsmetightallnightlongandwhispershowmuchhelovesme.AsI
start to drift off, I think about the day we just had: my relationship with my
motherisdamaged,possiblybeyondrepair,andHardinsharedmoreinformation
abouthischildhoodwithme.
Mydreamsarecloudedbyascaredcurlyhairedboycryingoutforhismother.
THENEXTMORNINGIampleasedtoseethatmymother’sassaulthasnotleft
any visible marks. My chest still hurts from the collapse of our already
crumblingrelationship,butIrefusetodwellonthattoday.
Itakeashowerandcurlmyhair,pinningitupsoitisn’tinmywayasIapply
my makeup and pull Hardin’s shirt from yesterday over my head. I put little
kisses all over Hardin’s shoulders and ears to wake him up, and when my
stomachgrumblesIpad into thekitchentomake us somebreakfast.Iwant to
startthedayinthebestwayIcansowecanbothremainhappyandcalmbefore
thewedding.BythetimeIfinishmyself-imposedkitchentherapy,Iampretty
proudofthemealIhaveprepared.Thecounterisfilledwithbacon,eggs,toast,
pancakes,andevenhashbrowns.Imadewaytoomuchfoodforthetwoofus,
butHardinusuallyeatsanenormousamountanyway,sothereshouldn’tbetoo
muchleft.
Ifeelstrongarmswraparoundmywaist.“Whoa...whatisallthis?”heasks
inaraspy,sleep-filledvoice.“ThisisexactlywhyIwantedtolivetogether,”he
saysintomyneck.
“Why?SoIcouldmakeyoubreakfast?”Ilaugh.
“No . . . well, yes. That and waking up to seeing you half dressed in the
kitchen.”Henipsatmyneck.HeattemptstoliftupthehemoftheT-shirtand
squeezethetopofmythighs.
Ispinandwaveaspatulainhisface.“Handstoyourselfuntilafterbreakfast,
Scott.”
“Yes,ma’am.”Hechucklesandgrabsaplate,pilingitwithfood.
Afterbreakfast,IforceHardintotakeashowerdespitehiseffortstodragme
backtothebed.Hisdarkconfessionandthefightwithmymotherseemtobe
forgotteninthemorninglight.MybreathislostinmychestwhenHardinwalks
outofthebedroominhisoutfitforthewedding.Theblackdresspantsaresnug
buthangoffhishipsinthemostdeliciousway,andhistieishangingaroundhis
neckwhilehiswhitebutton-downshirtisundone,revealinghisgorgeous,toned
torso.
“I...uhh...Iactuallyhavenoideahowtotieatie.”Heshrugs.
MymouthisdryandIcan’tstopstaringathim,soIchokeout,“Icanhelp
you.”Thankfully,Hardindoesn’taskwhereIlearnedtotieatie,sincehismood
wouldturnsourquicklyatthementionofNoah.“Youlooksohandsome,”Itell
himwhenIfinish.Heshrugsandputstheblackjacketon,completingthelook.
HischeeksflameandIcan’thelpbutlaughattheunexpectedemotion.Ican
tell he feels completely out of his element being dressed this way—and it’s
adorable.
“Whyaren’tyoudressed?”heasks.
“Iwaswaitinguntilthelastminute,sincemydressisallwhite,”Itellhimand
hemocksmeplayfully.
Finally,after another checkofmy makeup andgrabbingmyshoes, Idoput
thedresson.It’sevenshorterthanIremember,butHardinseemstoapprove.His
eyes never leave my chest after catching sight of my strapless bra. He always
makesmefeelsobeautifulandwanted.
“As long as all the men there are my father’s age, we shouldn’t have a
problem.” He smirks and zips me up. I roll my eyes and he kisses my bare
shoulderbeforeIunclipmyhair,lettingmylongcurlsfalldownmyshoulders.
Thepalefabricofthedressistightagainstmybody,andIsmileatthereflection
ofHardinandmeinthemirror.
“Youareabsolutelystunning,”hetellsme,kissingmeagain.
We scramble around and make sure we have everything we need for the
wedding,includingtheinvitationandacongratulationscardIbought.AsIput
myphoneintoasmallclutchbag,Hardingrabsmebythewaist.
“Smile,”hesaysandpullsouthisphone.
“Ithoughtyoudidn’ttakepictures.”
“I told you I would take one, so let’s take one.” His smile is goofy and
youthfulanditmakesmyheartswell.
IsmileandleanintoHardinashesnapsourpicture.“Onemore,”heinstructs
andIstickmytongueoutatthelastmoment.Hecaptureditattherightmoment,
mytongueonhischeekandhiseyeswideandfullofhumor.
“That’smyfavorite,”Itellhim.
“Thereareonlytwo.”
“Yeah,butstill.”Ikisshimandhesnapsanother.
“Accident,”helies,andIhearhimtakeanotherasIgivehimalook.
NEARHISFATHER’SHOUSE,Hardinstopstogetgassowedon’thavetoon
thewayhome.Asheisfillingup,afamiliarcarpullsintotheparkinglot,with
Nateinthefrontseat.ZedparkshiscartwopumpsoverfromHardin’sandgets
outtogoinside.
IgaspwhenIgetagoodlookathim:hislipisswollen,andbothhiseyesare
black and blue. His cheek has a deep purple bruise, and when he notices
Hardin’scarafuriousscowltakesoverhishandsome,damagedface.Whatthe
hell? He doesn’t say anything at all, or even acknowledge Hardin and me.
Withinseconds,Hardinclimbsbackintothecarandtakesmyhand.Ilookdown
atourintertwinedfingersandgasp,myeyestrailingoverhisbustedknuckles.
“You!”Isayandheraiseshisbrow.“Youbeathimup,didn’tyou?That’swho
youfoughtandthat’swhyhejustignoredus!”
“Would you calm down?” Hardin barks and rolls up my window before
pullingoutofthelot.
“Hardin...” I lookovertowhere Zed hasdisappearedinside,thenback at
Hardin.
“Canwepleasetalkaboutitafterthewedding?I’malreadyonedge.Please?”
hebegsandInod.
“Fine.Afterthewedding,”Iagreeandgentlysqueezethehandofhisthatdid
somuchdamagetomyfriend.
chapterninety-three
Clearly trying to change the subject, Hardin asks, “So now that we have our
ownplace,Iassumeyoudon’twanttostayatmyfather’shousetonightstill?”
IforceZed’sbeatenfacetothebackofmymind.“You’dassumecorrectly.”I
smile.“UnlessKarenasksusto;youknowIwon’tsayno,”Itellhim.
IamnervoustoseeKenafterwhatHardintoldmelastnight.Iamtryingto
clearitfrommymind,butit’shardertoaccomplishthanIthought.
“Oh,Ialmostforgot,”hesaysandreachesfortheradio.
Ilookoverathimandheholdshisfingeruptotellmetowait.“Idecidedto
givetheFrayanothertry,”heinformsme.
“Really?Andwhendidyoudecidethis?”Iquestion.
“Well, after our first date at the stream, but I didn’t open the CD until last
week,”headmits.
“Thatwasnotadate,”Iteaseandhechuckles.
“Youletmefingeryou.Iwouldsaythat’sadate.”
HegrabsmyhandasItrytoswathimandkissesmypalm.Igiggleandwrap
myfingersaroundhisslenderones.ImagesofmelyingonthewetT-shirtwhile
HardingavememyfirstorgasmfloodmythoughtsandHardinsmirks.
“Thatwasfun,huh?”heboastsandIlaugh.
“Anyway,tellmeyourevolvedopinionontheFray,”Irequest.
“Well,theyarenotsobad,actually.Thereisonesongthatreallystickswith
me.”
NowIamevenmorecurious.“Really?”
“Yeah...”hesaysandhiseyesflickertotheroadbeforehepressesthebutton
onhisradio.MusicfloodsthroughthesmallspaceandIimmediatelysmile.
“It’scalled‘NeverSayNever,’ ”Hardinsays,asifit’snewinformationtome
andnotalreadyoneofmyfavorites.
We listen to the lyrics silently and I can’t fight the silly grin on my face. I
knowheisslightlyembarrassedbyplayingthissongforme,soIdon’tdiscuss
it.IsimplyenjoythistendermomentwithHardin.
TherestofthedriveisfilledwithHardinflippingthroughsongsonthealbum,
tellingmewhathethinksofeachone.Thissmallbutmeaningfulgesturemeans
moretomethanhewilleverknow.Ilovethesemomentswhenheshowsmea
newsideofhimself.Thissideisoneofmynewfavorites.
Whenwearriveathisfather’shouse,thestreetisfullofcars.Steppingout,I
feelthecrispwindblowthroughme,andIshiver.ThethinjacketIworeover
mydress doesn’toffermeand mysmall dressmuch protection, really. Hardin
shrugsoutofhisjacketandlaysitovermyshoulders.It’ssurprisinglywarmand
smellslikehim,myfavoritescent.
“Well...lookatyoubeingsuchagentleman.Whowouldhavethought?”I
tease.
“Don’tmakemetakeyoubacktothecarandfuckyou,”hesays,andImakea
noisebetweenagaspandsqueak,whichhefindsveryamusing.“Doyouthink
youhaveroominthat...pursething...toholdmyphone?”heasks.
“It’saclutch,andyes.”Ismileandholdmyhandout.Heplacesthephonein
my palm, and as I push it into the small purse, I notice his background is no
longerplaingray.Thesmallscreenholdsthepictureofmethathesnappedwhile
Iwastalkingtohimintheroom.Mylipsareslightlypartedandmyeyesarefull
oflife.Mycheekshaveawarmglow;it’sstrangetoseemyselfthatway.Thisis
whathedoestome—hemakesmecomealive.
“I love you,” I tell him and close the bag without putting him on the spot
abouthisnewbackground.
Inside, Ken and Karen’s largehouse is full of people, and Hardin grips my
handtightlyafterretrievinghisjacketandputtingitbackon.
“Let’strytofindLandon,”Isuggest.
Hardingivesmeanodandleadstheway.Weendupfindinghisstepbrotherin
thelivingroomnexttothechinacabinetthatreplacedtheoneHardinbrokethe
first night I came here. Which seems so long ago. Landon is surrounded by a
groupofmenwhoalllooktobeatleastsixty,andoneofthemhashishandon
Landon’sshoulder.Asmileappearsonhisfacewhenhespotsus,andheexcuses
himself from their conversation. He looks very handsome in a suit similar to
Hardin’s.
“Whoa,IneverthoughtI’dlivetoseeyouinasuitandtie.”Landonlaughs.
“Ifyoukeeptalkingaboutit,youwon’tlivemuchlonger,”Hardinthreatens,
butthere’shumorbehindhiswordsashesmiles.Icantellheiswarmingupto
Landon,and that makesme happy.Landon is oneof myclosest friends, andI
reallycareforhim.
“Mymotherwillbethrilled.AndTessa,youlookbeautiful,”hesaysandpulls
me in for a hug. Hardin doesn’t let go of my hand while I try to hug Landon
back,soIdomybestwithonearm.
“Whoareallthesepeople?”Iask.IknowKenandKarenhavebeenhereonly
alittleoverayear,soit’sastoundingthatthereareatleasttwohundredpeople
here.
“MostofthemareKen’sfriendsfromtheuniversity,andtherestarefriends
andfamily.Ionlyknowabouthalfofthem.”Helaughs.“Wouldyouguyslikea
drink?Everyonewillbegoingoutsideinabouttenminutes.”
“WhosebrightideawasittohaveanoutdoorweddinginDecember?”Hardin
complains.
“Mymother’s,” Landon says.“Besides, the tents are heated, obviously.” He
looksaroundatthecrowd,thenbackatHardin.“Youshouldgoletyourfather
knowthatyouarehere.He’supstairs.Mymotherishidingsomewherewithmy
aunt.”
“Um...IthinkI’lljuststaydownhere,”Hardinreplies.
Icaress his handwith my thumb; he givesme an appreciative squeeze, and
Landonnods.“Well,Ihavetogofornow,butIwillseeyouafter,”hesaysand
leavesuswithasmile.
“Doyouwanttogooutsidenow?”IaskHardinandhenods.“Iloveyou,”I
tellhim.
Hesmiles,fulldimples.“Iloveyou,Tess,”hesaysandplantsakissonmy
cheek.
Hardinopensthebackdoorandgivesmehisjacketonceagain.Steppingout,
Iseethatthebackyardhasbeenwonderfullytransformed.Twolargetentstake
upmostofthe yard, andhangingfromthe trees andthepatioarehundreds of
smallglowinglanterns.Eveninthedaylight,theyarebeautiful,andit’sallquite
asighttobehold.
“Ithinkit’sthisone,”Hardinsaysandgesturestothesmallerofthetwotents.
We squeeze through the part in the flaps, and indeed he is right. Rows of
wooden chairs face a simple altar, with beautiful white flowers hung on some
wallsandalltheguestsinblack-and-whiteattire.Abouthalftheseatsarefull,so
wetakeaseatinthesecond-to-lastrow,becauseIknowHardindoesn’twantto
beupclose.
“IneverthoughtIwouldbeattendingmyfather’swedding,”hesaystome.
“Iknow. Iam incredibly proudof you forcoming. Itwillmean somuchto
them. It maybe sounds like you think it will be good for you, too.” I lean my
headonhisshoulder,andhesnakeshisarmaroundme.
Webegintotalkaboutthebeautifulwaythistenthasbeendecorated,inall
blackandwhite.Simpleandelegant.Itssimplicitymakesmefeelevenmorelike
I’vebeeninvitedtoanintimate,personalmomentinhisfamily,despitethelarge
numberofguests.
“Iguessthereceptionisintheothertent?”hesaysandtwirlsapieceofmy
hairbetweenhisthumbandindexfinger.
“Ithinkso.Ibetit’sevenmorebeautifulthan—”
“Hardin?Isthatyou?”awoman’svoicesays.Webothturnourheadstothe
left.Anelderlywomaninablack-and-whitefloraldressandflatshoesstaresat
uswithwideeyes.“Ohmyheavens,itisyou!”shegasps.Hergrayhairisswept
back into a simple bun, and her minimal makeup makes her look healthy,
radiant.
Forhispart,allthecolorhasdrainedfromHardin’sfaceashestandsupand
greetsher.“Gammy.”
Shepullshiminforatighthug.“Ican’tbelieveyou’rehere.Ihaven’tseen
youinyears.Lookatyou,youhandsomeboy.Well,man,now.Ican’tbelieve
how tall you are! And what are these?” She scowls and points at his facial
piercings.
Heflushesandgivesoutanuncomfortablelaugh.“Howhaveyoubeen?”he
asksherandshiftsbackandforthontheballsofhisfeet.
“Iamgood,dear—I’vemissedyousomuch,”shesaysandpatsthecornersof
hereyes.Aftera beat, shedramaticallylooksaround him atmeandasks with
notableinterest,“Andwhoisthislovelyyoungwoman?”
“Oh...sorry.ThisisTess...Tessa.My...girlfriend,”heanswers.“Tessa,
thisismygammy...mygrandma.”
Ismileandstandup.ThethoughtofmeetingHardin’sgrandparentshadnever
crossed my mind. I had assumed they were dead, like mine. He has never
broughtthemup,butthatisn’tsurprising.IsupposeIhaven’t,either.
“It’ssonicetomeetyou,”Isaytoherandreachtoshakeherhand,butshehas
otherplansandpullsmeinforahugandkissesmycheek.
“Thepleasureisallmine.Whatabeautifulgirlyouare!”shesaysinanaccent
eventhickerthanHardin’s.“MynameisAdele,butyouwillcallmeGammy.”
“Thankyou,”Isay,blushing.
Sheclapsherhandsinglee.“Ijustcan’tbelieveyouarehere.Haveyouseen
your father recently? Does he know you are here?” she asks, looking back at
Hardin.
Hardinbashfullyputshishandsintohispockets.“Yeah,heknows.Ihavesort
ofbeencomingherelately.”
“Well,thatissogreattohear.Ihadnoidea,”shesaysandIcantellsheison
thebrinkoftearsagain.
“Okay, everyone, if you could all take a seat, the ceremony will begin
shortly,”amanwithamicrophonesaysfromtheraisedplatformupfront.
Gammy pulls Hardin by the arm before he can protest. “Come sit with the
family—youtwoshouldn’tbeallthewaybackhere.”Helooksbackatmeand
gives me a look that says “help me,” but I just smile and follow them to the
front.WetakeaseatnexttosomeonewholooksalotlikeKarenandIassumeis
her sister. Hardin takes my hand in his, and his grandmother looks down and
smiles at our affection before putting her hand on his other one. He stiffens a
littlebutdoesn’tremoveit.
Kenwalkstohisplace,andthelookonhisfacewhenhespotshissonsitting
in the front row is indescribable: heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same
time.Hardinevengiveshimasmallsmile,whichKenhappilyreturns.Landon
stands next to Ken on the stage, but Hardin doesn’t seem to mind; he would
neverhaveagreedtobeupthereanyway.
WhenKarenenters,acollectivesighsoundsthroughtheroom.Shelooksso
beautifulasshewalksdowntheaisle.Herfacewhenshespotshergroommakes
meleanintoHardin’sshoulder.Happinessisradiatingoffofher,andhersmile
lights up the tent. Her dress is brushing against the floor, and her cheeks are
glowing,addingtotheambience.
The ceremony is beautiful and I find myself with wet cheeks when Ken’s
voicecracksintoa small sob ashereciteshis vows tohisbride.Hardin looks
over at me and smiles, removing his hand from mine and wiping my cheeks.
Karen makes a beautiful bride and their first kiss as husband and wife earns
cheersandapplausefromthecrowd.
“Sap,”HardinteasesasIlaymyheadonhisshoulderwhilethecrowdfiles
out.
Afterabit,weaccompanyHardin’sgrandmatotheothertent,andIwasright
—it’s evenmorebeautifulthanthefirstone.Upnearthewallsofthistentare
tablesdrapedwithwhiteclothandtoppedwithblacknapkinsandcenterpiecesof
blackandwhiteflowers.Theceilingiscoveredinlanternsjustliketheyard,and
theycastasubtleglowthroughouttheroom,reflectingnicelyofftheglassware
andglossywhiteplates.Themiddleofthetentisclearedforwhatappearstobe
adancefloorwithblackandwhitetiles,andwaitersarestandingattheready,
waitingforeveryonetogettheirseats.
“Now, don’t you disappear. I want to see you again tonight,” Hardin’s
grandmothersaysandleavesus.
“ThisisthefanciestweddingIhavebeento,”hesaysandlooksatthewhite
clothdrapedacrosstheceiling.
“Ihaven’tbeentoaweddingsinceIwasachild,”Itellhimandhesmiles.
“Ilikethat,”hesaysandkissesmycheek.
Iamnotusedtohispublicdisplaysofaffection,butIcouldgetusedtothem
quickly.
“Likewhat?”Iaskashesitsdownatoneofthetables.
“Thatyouhaven’tbeentoaweddingwithNoah,”hesaysandIlaughtoavoid
frowning.
“Me,too,”Iassurehimandhesmiles.
THEFOODISDELICIOUS.Igoforthechicken,andHardinchoosesthesteak.
Theysetthingsupinabuffetlinetokeepitcasual,butthefoodisanythingbut.
I drag a piece of chicken through the creamy sauce and bring the fork to my
mouth—butHardinsnatchesitfromme,smilingashechewsthebite.Hecoughs
alittle,tryingtomasterchewingandlaughingatonce.
“That’swhatyougetforstealingmyfood,”Iteasehim,poppinganewpiece
intomymouthbeforehecangrabit.
Helaughs,leaning into myshoulder, and Icatchthe woman acrossfromus
staring.Herexpressionisn’tamusedasshewatchesHardinpresshislipsagainst
myshoulder.Istarebackatherequallyharshlyandshelooksaway.
“Doyouwantmetogetyouanotherplate?”IaskHardin,loudenoughforthe
rudewomantohearmyoffer.Shelooksoveratthemannexttoherandraisesa
brow.Hedoesn’tseemtobepayingattentiontoher,whichannoysherfurther.I
smileandplacemyhandoverHardin’s.He’sasobliviousasthemanacrossthe
table,andI’mglad.
“Uh,yeah,sure.Thankyou.”
Ileandowntokisshischeekandmakemywaybacktothelineforfood.
“Tessa?” a familiar voice calls. I look over to see Mr. Vance and Trevor
standingafewfeetaway.
“Hello.”Ismile.
“Youlookbreathtaking,”Trevorsays,andIthankhimquietly.
“Howareyouenjoyingyourweekend?”Mr.Vanceasksme.
“It’sgreat.I’vebeenenjoyingmyweeksoflateaswell,”Iassurehim.
“Oh,sure.”Helaughsandgrabshimselfaplate.
“Noredmeat!”Kimberlysaysfrombehindhim.Hepretendstoshoothimself
inthetemple,andsheblowshimakiss.KimberlyandMr.Vance?Whowould
havethought?IwillhavetopressherfordetailsonMonday.
“Women,”heteasesandfillsherplateasIdoHardin’s.
“I’llseeyouinafew.”Hesmilesandwalksbacktohisdate.Shewavesatme
and gets the young boy on her lap to do the same. I wave back, wondering
suddenlyifshehasachild.
Trevorleansinandanswersmythoughts.“It’shisson.”
“Oh,”IsayandlookawayfromKimberly.
Trevor keepshis eyeson Mr. Vance. “His wifepassed awayfive years ago,
rightafterhewasborn.Hehasn’tdatedanyoneuntilKim,andthey’veonlybeen
seeingeachotherforafewmonths,butheisheadoverheelsforher.”Heturns
tomeandsmiles.
“Well,nowIknowwhotohitupforalltheofficegossip,”Ijokeandweboth
laugh.
“Babe . . .” Hardin says and wraps his arm around my waist, clearly in an
attempttoclaimhisterritory.
“Nicetoseeyou.Hardin,isit?”Trevorasks.
“Yeah,”Hardinanswersshortly.“We bettergetbacktoourseats;Landonis
lookingforyou.”Hepullsmeclosertohim,silentlydismissingTrevor.
“I’llseeyoulater,Trevor!”IsmilepolitelyandhandHardinhisplateoffood
aswewalkbacktothetable.
chapterninety-four
Where’sLandon?”IaskHardinwhenwetakeourseats.
Hetakesabiteofacroissant.“Idon’tknow.”
“Um,yousaidhewaslookingforme?”
“Hewas,butIdon’tknowwhereheisnow.”
“Hardin,youshouldn’ttalkwithyourmouthfull.”Hisgrandmotherappears
behindhim.
Inoticehimtakeadeepbreathbeforeheturnstoher.“Sorry,”hemumbles.
“IwantedtoseeyoubeforeIgo—GodknowswhenIwillseeyouagain.Can
yousaveadanceforyourgammy?”sheasksohsoadorably,butheshakeshis
head.“Whynot?”sheaskshimwithasmile.
Irealizenowthatitwasn’tjustshockthathadHardinrattledbefore.There’sa
tensionbetweenthemthatIcan’tquiteputmyfingeron.
“IamonmywaytogetTessaadrink,”heliesandleavesthetable.
Hisgrandmotherlaughsuncomfortably.“Well,he’ssomething,isn’the?”Iam
notsurewhattosay;myfirstinstinctistodefendhim,butitseemssheisjoking.
Sheturnstomesharply.“Ishestilldrinking?”
“What? N-no,” I stutter, completely caught off guard. “Well,he only drinks
everyonceinawhile,”IclarifyasIseehimwalkingtowarduswithtwoflutes
fullofpinkliquid.
HehandsmeoneandIsmileandliftittomylips.ItsmellssweetwhenItip
theglassbacktotakeadrink,andthebubblesspritzlightly,ticklingmynose.It
tastesjustassweetasitsmells.
“Champagne,”heinformsmeandIthankhim.
“Tessa!”Karenpracticallyshoutsrightbeforeshewrapsherarmsaroundme.
She has changed out of her wedding dress and into a white knee-length wrap
dress,notthatshelooksanylessstunning.“Iamsothrilledthatyoutwocame!
Howwasit?”sheasks.Karenistheonlypersonwhowouldaskhowherown
weddingwas;sheistookind.
“Itwassolovely;itwasbeautiful.”Ismile.
HardinputshishandonthesmallofmybackandIleanintohim.Icansense
howuncomfortableheisbetweenhisgrandmotherandKaren,andnowKenis
makinghiswayovertous.
“Thankyouforcoming,”KensaystoHardinandholdsouthishandtoshake.
Hardinobligesandquicklyshakeshisfather’shand.InoticeKenstarttolift
hisarmuptohugHardin,buthelowersitbeforefollowingthrough.Still,Ken’s
faceisfullofexcitementandjoy.
“Tessa,youlookbeautiful,dear.”Hehugsmeandtheneagerlyasks,“Areyou
enjoyingyourselves?”
I can’t help but feel a little awkward around him now that I have a deeper
insightintowhohewasallthoseyearsago.“Yeah.It’sanicesetupyou’vegot
outhere.”Hardindoeshisbesttopraisehisfather.Iputmyhandonhisback
andrubsmallcirclestoeasehim.
Hardin’sgrandmothercoughsandlooksathisfather.“Ididn’tknowthatyou
twowerespeaking.”
Kenrubsthebackofhisneck,ahabitthatIsuspectHardingotfromhim.
“Yeah.Let’stalkaboutthisanothertime,Mother,”Kensaysandshenodsin
agreement.
ItakeanotherdrinkoutofmyglassandtrynottodwellonthefactthatIam
drinkingunderageinfrontofadults.Infrontofthechancellorofmyschool.
A waiterinablackvestwalksbywithatrayofchampagne,andwhenKen
grabs a flute I cringe. But he hands the glass to his new bride and I relax,
extremelygladtoseethatheisn’tdrinking.
“Wantanother?”HardinasksmeandIlookatKaren.
“Goahead,it’sawedding,”shetellsmeandIsmile.
“Sure,”IsayandHardinleavestogetmeanotherglass.
We talk about the wedding and the flowers for a minute, and when Hardin
comesbackwithonlyoneflute,Karengetsconcernedandaskshim,“Youdon’t
likethechampagne?”
“Ohyeah,it’sgood,butIalreadyhadaglassandI’mdriving,”hereplies,and
Karenlooksathimwithadorationclearinherbrowneyes.
Sheturns tome. “Doyou havetime tocome bythis week?I orderedsome
seedsforthegreenhouse.”
“Yes,ofcourse.Iamfreeanytimeafterfourallweek,”Isay.
The pleased yet astonished look on Gammy’s face is obvious as she looks
backandforthbetweenKarenandme.“Sohowlonghaveyoutwobeenseeing
oneanother?”sheasksHardinandme.
“Afewmonths,”Hardintellsherquietly.
Sometimes I forget that no one outside of our—well, Hardin’s—group of
friendsknowsthatwedespisedeachotherupuntiltwomonthsago.
“Oh, so no great-grandchildren for me anytime soon?” She laughs and
Hardin’sfaceflushes.
“No,no.We’veonly just movedintogether,” Hardinsays,andKaren andI
bothspitchampagnebackintoourglassesatthesametime.
“Youtwomovedintogether?”Kenasks.
IhadnotexpectedHardintotellthemtoday.Heck,Ihadn’tevenbeensurehe
wouldtellthematall,givenhowheis.Iamshockedandalittleembarrassedat
myreaction,butmostlypleasedthathehasnoproblemadmittingit.
“Yeah,wemovedintoArtisanafewdaysago,”heexplains.
“Wow,that’saniceplace,andclosertoTessa’sinternship,”Kenremarks.
“Yeah,”Hardinsays,clearlytryingtomeasurehoweveryonefeelsaboutour
bombshell.
“Well, I am very happy for you, son.” He places his hand on his son’s
shoulderandIwatchwithaneutralexpression.“Ineverimaginedyouwouldbe
thishappyandso...atpeace.”
“Thankyou,”Hardinsaysandactuallysmiles.
“Maybewecouldcomebysometimeandseeit?”Kenasks,andKaren’seyes
lower.
“Ken...”shewarns,clearlyrememberingthetimeKenpushedHardintoo
far,asamI.
“Uh,yeah,Iguessyoucould,”Hardinsays,surprisingusall.
“Really?”KenasksandHardinnods.“Okay, just let us know whenisgood
forthetwoofyou.”Hiseyesareslightlyglossy.
MusicbeginstoplaythroughthetentandKarengrabsKen’sarm.“That’sour
cue—thank you both so much for coming,” she says and leans in to kiss my
cheek.
“Youhavedonesomuchforthisfamily,youhavenoidea,”shewhispersin
myearbeforepullingaway,tearsshininginhereyes.
“Timeforthebrideandgroom’sfirstdance!”avoiceannouncesthroughthe
speakers. Hardin’s grandmother walks away as well, following the crowd to
watch.
“Youjustmadetheirday,”ItellHardinandkisshischeek.
“Let’sgoupstairs,”hesays.
“What?”MyheadisalittlefuzzyfromthetwoglassesofchampagneIjust
finished.
“Upstairs,”herepeats,sendingthatfamiliarelectricitythroughme.
“Now?”Ilaugh.
“Now.”
“Butallthesepeople...”
Hedoesn’trespond;insteadhetakesmyhandandleadsmethroughthecrowd
andoutofthetent.Whenwegetinsidethehouse,hegrabsmeanotherglassof
champagne,andItrynottoletitspillasIrushupthestairstokeepupwithhim.
“Issomethingwrong?”Iaskhimasheshutsthebedroomdoorandlocksit.
“Ineedyou,”hesaysdarklyandpullshisjacketoff.
“Areyouokay,though?”Iask,myheartalreadybeatingoutofmychest.
“Yes,Ijustneedadistraction,”hegroansandstepstowardme,grabbingthe
glassandsettingitonthedresser.Hetakesanotherstep,encirclingmywristsin
hishandsandthenliftingthemovermyhead.
Iwillgladlybehisdistractionfromtheoverloadofeverythingdownstairs—
seeing his grandmother for the first time in years, watching his father get
remarried,agreeingtoletthemcometoourapartment.ThatisalotforHardinin
suchashortperiodoftime.
Insteadofaskinghimanyquestionsorpushinghimfurther,Igrabhimbythe
collarofhisshirtandpushmyhipsouttomeethis.He’salreadyhard.Groaning,
heletsgoofmywrists,allowingmetocombmyfingersthroughhishair.When
hismouthmovesovermine,histongueishotandsweetwiththelingeringtaste
ofchampagne.Withinsecondsheisreachingintohispocketandpullingouta
foilpacket.
“We’ve got to get you on birth control so I can stop using these. I want to
reallybeabletofeelyou.”Hisvoiceishuskyandhepullsmylowerlipbetween
his,suckinglightlyandseductively,makingmybodycravehimevenmore.
Ihearhimunzipandhehissesasmyhandsreachdownandpushhispantsand
boxers down to his knees. Hardin’s hands go up the front of my dress and he
hookshislongfingersaroundmypantiesandpullsthemdown.Iclumsilystep
out of them, using his arms to steady myself. He chuckles lightly before
connectinghislipswithmyneck.Hishandssqueezemyhipsbeforeheliftsme
upandIwhimperalittle,wrappingmylegsaroundhiswaist.
Myhandsgripthetopofmydressinanattempttopullitdown,buthepleads
intomyneck,“No,leaveiton.Thisdressissoincrediblysexy...it’ssosexy,
yetwhiteandvirginallooking...andfuck...it’ssohot.You’resobeautiful.”
Heliftsmeupfarther,thenlowersmeontohim.Mybackisagainstthesmooth
door and Hardin begins guiding me up and down. There is a fever and a
desperationinhimthatIhavenotseenatthislevelbefore,andIfeelasthoughI
amiceandheisfire.Wearesocompletelydifferent,yetthesame.
“Is...this...okay?”hestutters,hisarmswrappedaroundmybacktokeep
mesteady.
“Yes,”Imoan. The feeling ofhimtakingme this way,against the door,my
legsaroundhiswaist,isveryintensebutheavenlyallthesame.
“Kissme,”hebegs.
Islidemytongueacrosshislipsbeforehismouthparts,allowingmeaccess.
Tuggingathishair,Idomybesttokisshimashemovesinandoutofmefaster
and faster. Our bodies are moving vigorously, but our kiss remains slow and
intimate.
“I can’t get enough of you, Tess, I . . . fuck. I love you,” he says into my
mouthandIgaspandmoan,thatfeelinggrowinginthepitofmystomach.
AfewgruntsescapehislipsandIcryout,bothofusreachingourclimaxes.
“Letgo,baby,”heinstructs,andIdojustthat.Heleaveshislipspressedagainst
mine,swallowingmymoansashetensesandspillsintothecondom.
With a few heavy breaths his head falls onto my chest and he continues to
holdme in placefor a fewseconds before liftingme and thenlowering me to
standonmyownfeet.
Itiltmyheadbackagainstthedoorandcatchmybreathasheneatlyputsthe
condombackintothewrapperandputsitintohispocketbeforepullinghispants
backup.
“Remindmetothrowthatawayassoonaswegetdownstairs.”Helaughsand
Igiggle.“Thankyou,”hesaysandkissesmycheek.“Notforwhatwejustdid,
butforeverything.”
“You never need to thank me, Hardin. You do as much for me as I do for
you.”Ilookintohisbrightgreeneyes.“Actually,more.”
“Noway.”Heshakeshisheadgentlyandtakesmyhand.“Let’sgobackdown
beforesomeonecomeslookingforus.”
“HowdoIlook?”Iask,runningmyfingersthroughmyhairandwipingunder
myeyes.
“Freshlyfucked,”heteasesandIrollmyeyes.“Youlookbeautiful.”
“Sodoyou,”Itellhim.
ALMOSTEVERYONEINTHETENTisdancingbythetimewereturn,andit
seemsthatourabsencehasgoneunnoticed.Aswetakeourseatsanothersong
begins.Irecognizeit:“NeverLetMeGo,”byFlorenceandtheMachine.
“Doyouwanttodance?”IaskHardin,eventhoughIamsureIalreadyknow
hisanswer.
“No,Idon’tdance,”hesaysandlooksoveratme.“Unless...youwantto?”
headds.
Iamsurprisedbyhisofferandthrilledthathewoulddancewithme.Heholds
hishandoutformine,butreallyI’mtheonewholeadsusontothecheckered
dancefloor,movingquicklyincasehechangeshismind.Westayintheback,a
gooddistancefromthecrowd.
“Idon’thaveacluewhattodo.”Helaughs.
“I’llshowyou,”Iassurehimandplacehishandsonmyhips.Hestepsonmy
feet a few times, but he catches on quickly. Never in a million years would I
haveevenentertainedthethoughtthatHardinwouldbedancingathis father’s
wedding.
“Sortofadementedsongtoplayatawedding,isn’tit?”Helaughsintomy
ear.
“Notreally;it’ssortofperfect,”Isayandleanmyheadonhischest.
I am aware that we aren’tactually dancing as much as we are just swaying
backandforthholdingeachother,butthat’sfinewithme.Westaythatwayfor
thenexttwosongs,whichendupbeingtwoofmyfavorites.“YouFoundMe”
bytheFraymakesHardinlaughasheholdsmeclosetohim.Thenext,apop
songbyaboyband,plays,makingmesmileandhimrollhiseyes.Duringboth,
Hardin gives me some background on his grandmother. She still lives in
England,buthehasn’tseenorspokentohersinceshephonedhimonhistwelfth
birthday.Shetookhisfather’ssideduringthedivorceanddefendedhisdrinking,
essentially blaming Hardin’s mother for everything, which was enough for
Hardintonotwanttospeaktoheragain.Heseemsverycomfortablesharingthis
information with me, so I stay quiet, only nodding and humming in
acknowledgmentofhisremarks.
Hardinmakesafewjokesabouthowannoyingandwhinyallthesongsbeing
playedare,andIlaughathim.
“Youwanttogobackupstairs?”hejokesandlowershishandonmyback.
“Maybe.”
“I’llhavetogiveyouchampagnemoreoften.”Imovehishandsbackupto
mywaistandhepouts,whichmakesmelaughevenmore.“I’mactuallyhaving
aprettydecenttime,”headmits.
“Me,too.Thankyouforcomingwithme.”
“Iwouldn’twanttobeanywhereelse.”
Iknowhedoesn’tmeantheweddingbutjustwithmeingeneral.Thethought
sendswarmththroughme.
“MayIcutin?”Kenasksasthenextsongbegins.
Hardinfrownsandlooksatme,thenbacktohisfather.“Yeah,butonlyone
song,”hegrumbles.
Ken laughs and repeats his son’s words: “One song.” Hardin letsgo of me,
andKen’shandgoesaroundmyback.IswallowdowntheuneasyfeelingsIhold
for him. He keeps the conversation light as we dance and my ill feelings are
furthermutedaswelaughatanobviouslydrunkcoupleswayingbackandforth
nexttous.
“Wouldyoulookatthat?”Kenthensays,hisvoicefullofwonder.
I turn to see what he’s referring to and hear my own small gasp as I spot
HardinawkwardlyswayingbackandforthwithKaren.Shelaughsashestepson
her white shoes, and he smiles an embarrassed smile. Tonight has been better
thanIcouldhavedreamed.
After the song ends, Hardin quickly finds his way back to me, and Karen
follows.Wetellthehappybrideandgroomthatwe’regoingtogo,andweall
exchange hugs once again, Hardin’s being maybe incrementally less stiff than
earlier.SomeonecallsKen’snameandhenodsatthem.HeandKarensaytheir
final goodbyes and thank us once again for coming to the wedding before
disappearingintothecrowd.
“Oh,myfeetarekillingme,”Isay.ThisisthelongestIhavewornheelsinmy
entirelifeandIamgoingtoneedaweektorecover.
“Wouldyoulikemetocarryyou?”hesaysinamocking,babylikevoice.
“No.”Igiggle.
As we are leaving the tent, Trevor walks by with Mr. Vance and Kimberly.
HersmileisbrightandshewinksatmeafterlookingHardinupanddown.Itry
tostiflemylaughandendupcoughing.
“Didyousavemeadance?”Mr.VanceteasesHardin.
“No,absolutelynot.”Hardinlaughsbackathim.
“You’releavingsosoon?”Trevorlooksatme.
“Wehavebeenhereforawhile,actually,”Hardinanswersformeandpulls
meawayfromthem.“Nicetoseeyou,Vance,”hecallsoverhisshoulderaswe
walkoutofthetent.
“Thatwasrude.”Iscoldhimwhenwegettohiscar.
“Hewasflirtingwithyou.IamentitledtobeasrudeasIplease.”
“Trevorwasn’tflirting;hewasjustbeingnice.”
Hardinrollshiseyes.“Hewantsyou,Icantell.Don’tbesonaïve.”
“Justbenicetohim,please.IworkwithhimandIdon’twantanyproblems,”
Isaycalmly.Tonighthasbeentoogoodanighttoruinoverhisjealousy.
Hardinsmirksevilly.“IcouldalwaysjusthaveVancefirehim.”
Ican’thelpbutlaughathiscockyresponse.“You’reinsane,”Isnort.
“Onlywhenitcomestoyou,”hesaysandpullsontothestreet.
chapterninety-five
Ilovecominghome!”Iproclaimwithasquealaswewalkintotheapartment,
onlytothenrealizeit’sfreezing.“Exceptwhenyouturntheheatoff.”Ishiver
andhechuckles.
“Istillhaven’tfiguredthatthingoutyet;it’stoohigh-tech.”
AsHardintriestofigureoutthethermostat,Igrabablanketoffthebedand
twofromtheclosetanddroptheminaheaponthecouch,thengobacktothe
bedroom.“Hardin!”Icall.
“Coming!”
“Can you unzip me?” I ask as he comes in, looking frustrated from his
handymanmoment.
I flinch from the coolness of his fingertips against my bare skin. He
apologizes,thenhastilyunzipsthematerial,anditdropstothefloor.Itakemy
shoes off and find that the concrete floor is freezing as well. Hurrying to the
dresser,IgrabthewarmestpajamasIcanfind.
“Here,let me giveyou something,”he saysand walks tothe closet,pulling
outagrayhoodedsweatshirt.
“Thanks.”Ismile.Idon’tknowwhatitisaboutbeinginHardin’sclothesthat
Ilovesomuch;it’salmostasifwearingthembringsuscloser.Ineverdidthis
withNoah, exceptonce when I borrowed a sweatshirt whilecamping withhis
family.
Hardin seems to like when I wear his clothes, too. He watches me slip the
sweatshirtovermyheadwithlustfuleyes.Inoticehimstrugglingtogetthetie
offandIpadovertohelphim.HewatchesmesilentlyasIpullthethinfabric
from around his neck and set it aside before grabbing a pair of thick, fuzzy,
purplesocksthatmymothergotmeforChristmaslastyear.
ItdawnsonmethatChristmasisonlythreeweeksaway,andIstarttowonder
ifmymotherwillstillwantmetocomehome.Ihaven’tbeenhomesinceIleft
forcollege.
“Whatarethose?”Hardinchucklesandflickstheballsoffuratthetopofmy
ankle.
“Socks.Warmsocks,tobeexact.”Istickmytongueout.
“Nice,”heteases,thenchangesintosweatpantsandasweatshirt.
By the time we get back to the living room, the apartment has warmed up
somewhat.Hardinturnsthetelevisiononandliesonthecouch,pullingmeonto
hischestandencasingusinthemoundofblankets.
“I was wondering what you were doing for Christmas,” I say nervously. I
don’tknowwhyIfeelshyaskinghimaboutthiswhenwealreadylivetogether.
“Ohwell,Iwasgoingtowaituntilnextweektobringitup,witheverything
beingsochaoticoverthelastweek,butsinceyoudid...”Hesmiles,hisface
holdingthesamenervousnessthatIfeel.“I’mgoingtogohomefortheholiday,
andIwouldlikeitifyouwouldcomewithme.”
“Home?”Isqueak.
“To England . . . to my mother’s house.” He looks a little sheepish as he
hedges,“Igetitifyoudon’twantto.Iknowit’salottoask,andyou’vealready
movedinwithme.”
“It’snotthatIdon’twantto,it’sjust...Idon’tknow...”Theideaofgoing
toanothercountrywithHardinisthrilling,butterrifying.Ihaveneverevenleft
Washington.
“Youdon’thavetoanswermetonight,butletmeknowsoon,okay?Iwillbe
leavingonthetwentieth,”heexplains.
“That’sthedayaftermybirthday,”Itellhim.
Hemovessuddenlyandliftsmyheadup.“Yourbirthday?Whydidn’tyoutell
meitwassosoon?”
I shrug a little. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, I guess.
Birthdays aren’t really a big deal to me. My mother used to go all-out on my
birthdays,makingeachonespecial,butnotinthelastfewyears.”
“Well,whatwouldyouliketodoforyourbirthday?”
“Nothing.Maybewecangotodinner?”Idon’twanttomakeabigdealoutof
it.
“Dinner...Idon’tknow,”heteases.“Abitextravagant,isn’tit?”
Igiggleandhekissesmyforehead.Iforcehimtowatchthenewepisodeof
PrettyLittleLiarsandweendupfallingasleeponthecouchprettyquickly.
I wake up sweating in the middle of the night. Lifting myself off Hardin, I
peeloffthesweatshirtandgoovertoturntheheatdownwhenasmallbluelight
blinking on Hardin’s phone piques my curiosity. I pick the phone up off the
counterandswipemyfingeracross.Threenewmessages.
Putthephonedown,Tessa.
Ihavenoreasontogothroughhisphone;that’sinsane.Isetitdownandwalk
back toward the couch, only to be stopped by the vibration of another text
messagearriving.
Just one. I will only glance at one. That’s not so crazy, right? I know it’s
insanetobelookingthroughHardin’smessages,butIcan’tseemtostopmyself.
Call me back dick, the message reads. Jace’s name covers the top of the small
screen.
Yup,readingthatwasaterribleidea.Itdidn’tgetmeanywhereatall,andnow
IfeelguiltyforgoingthroughHardin’sphonelikeacrazyperson...butwhyis
JacetextingHardin,anyway?
“Tessa?”Hardin’svoicecroaks,causingmetojump,andthephoneslipsout
ofmygrasp.Itfallstothefloorwithacrack.
“What was that? What are you doing?” he asks through the dark room, the
onlylightbeingcastfromthetelevision.
“Your phone went off . . . and I grabbed it,” I half-lie and scramble on the
floor to pick up the phone. The screen now has a small crack along the side.
“AndIcrackedthescreen,”Iadd.
Hegroanswearily.“Justcomebacktobed.”
I set the phone down and lie back on the couch with him. But I don’t fall
asleepforalongwhile.
THENEXTMORNING,IwakeuptoHardintryingtomoveoutfromunderme.
Ishiftagainstthebackofthecouchtolethimgetup,andhegrabshisphoneoff
the counter before going tothe bathroom. I hope he isn’ttoo pissed about me
breaking his screen. If I wouldn’t have been so nosy, this wouldn’t have
happenedinthefirstplace.Ipullmyselfoffthecouchandmakeapotofcoffee.
Hardin’s proposal of going to England with him keeps running through my
mind.Wehavealreadyprogressedsoquicklyinourrelationshipbymovingin
together at such a young age. Still, I would love to meet his mother and see
EnglandwithHardin.
“Deepinthought?”Hardin’svoiceinterruptsmeashecomesintothekitchen.
“No...well,sortof.”Ilaugh.
“About?”
“Christmas.”
“Whataboutit?Youcan’tfigureoutwhattogetme?”
“IthinkI’mgoingtocallmymotherandseeifshewouldhaveeveninvited
me for Christmas. I feel bad not at least seeing first, you know. She will be
alone.”
Hedoesn’tlookthrilled,buthestayscalm.“Iunderstand.”
“I’msorryaboutyourphone.”
“It’sfine,”hesaysandsitsatthekitchentable.
ButthenIblurtout,“IreadatextmessagefromJace.”Idon’twant tohide
thingsfromhim,nomatterhowembarrassingtheconfessionsare.
“Youwhat?”
“ItvibratedandIlookedatit.Whywashetextingsolate,anyway?”
“Whatdidyouread?”heasks,ignoringmyquestion.
“AtextfromJace,”Irepeat.
Hisjawclenches.“Whatdiditsay?”
“Just to call him back . . .” Why is he getting so worked up? I knew he
wouldn’t exactly be happy that I looked at his text message, but this is an
overreaction.
“That’sit?”hesnaps,whichstartstogetmeannoyed.
“Yes,Hardin—whatelsewouldithavesaid?”
“Nothing...”Hetakesaslowsipofcoffee,likeit’sallsuddenlynobigdeal.
“Ijustdon’tlikeyougoingthroughmystuff.”
“Okay,well,Iwon’tdoitagain.”
“Good.Ihaveafewthingstodotoday,socanyoukeepyourselfbusyfora
while?”
“Whatdoyouhavetodo?”Iaskandinstantlyregretit.
“Jesus,Tessa,”hesaysloudly.“Whyareyoualwaysonmycase!”
“I’mnotalwaysonyourcase.Ijustwantedtoknowwhatyouweredoing.We
areinarelationship,Hardin—aprettyseriousone,atthat—sowhywouldn’tI
askwhereyou’regoing?”
Hepusheshismugawayandstandsup.“Youjustdon’tknowwhentoletshit
go,isyourproblem.Idon’thavetotellyoueverything,whetherweareliving
together or not! If I would have known you were going to start shit with me
today,Iwouldhaveleftbeforeyouevenwokeup.”
“Wow”isallIcansaybeforeIstormofftothebedroom.
Buthe’shotonmyheels.“Wowwhat?”
“Ishouldhaveknownthatyesterdaywastoogoodtobetrue.”
“Excuseme?”hescoffs.
“Wehadsuchagreattime;youweren’tanasshole,foronce,butyouwakeup
today and bam! You’re back to being a jerk!” I scramble around the room
pickingupHardin’sdirtyclothes.
“Youforgotthepartwhereyouwentthroughmyphone.”
“Okay,andIamsorryfordoingthat,butit’shonestlynotthatbigofadeal.If
thereissomethingontherethatyoudon’twantmetosee,thenthereisabigger
problemhere!”Iyellandshoveeverythingintothehamper.
He points an angry finger at me. “No, Tessa, you’re the problem. You’re
alwaysmakingsomethingoutofnothing!”
“WhydidyoufightZed?”Icounter.
“Wearen’tdoingthisrightnow,”hesaysinacooltone.
“Thenwhen, Hardin? Why won’t you tell me? How am I supposed to trust
youifyouarekeepingthingsfromme?DoesthishavetodowithJace?”Iask
andhisnostrilsflare.
He runs his hands over his face and then up through his hair, leaving it
stickingstraightup.“Idon’tknowwhyyoucanneverjustmindyourowndamn
business,”hegrumblesandwalksoff.
SecondslaterIhearthefrontdoorslamandIwipetheangrytearsfrommy
cheeks.Hardin’sreactiontomeaskingaboutJaceisgnawingatmystomachthe
entire time I clean the apartment. He overreacted; there is something he isn’t
tellingme,andIdon’tunderstandwhy.Iamfairlycertainithasnothingtodo
with me, but it just doesn’tmake sense why Hardin got so worked up. I have
knownsincethemomentImetJacethathewastrouble.IfHardinisn’tgoingto
give me answers, I will have to go another route. I look out the window and
watchasHardin’scarpullsoutoftheparkinglotbeforegrabbingmyphone.My
newsourceanswersonthefirstring.
“Zed?It’sTessa,”Isay.
“Yeah...Iknow.”
“Okay. . .well, I waswondering ifIcould askyou something?” Myvoice
comesoutsmallerthanIintendeditto.
“Um...whereisHardin?”heasks,and,givenhistone,Isuspectheholdsa
smallgrudgeagainstmeforblowinghimoffafterhewassokindtome.
“Heisn’there.”
“Idon’tthinkthisisagoodidea—”
“WhydidHardinfightyou?”Iaskbeforehefinishes.
“I’msorry,Tessa,Igottago,”hesaysandthecallends.
Whatthehell?Ihadn’tbeenonehundredpercentsurehewouldtellme,but
thatwasn’tthereactionIwasexpecting,either.Mycuriosityisnowpiquedmore
thanbeforeandmyannoyanceisashighasever.
ItrytocallHardinagain,butofcoursehedoesn’tanswer.WhywouldZedact
thatway?Likehewasalmost...afraidtotellme?MaybeIwaswrongandthis
doeshavetodowithme?Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingon,butnoneofthismakes
sense. I take a step back and reevaluate the situation. Am I overreacting?
Hardin’sfranticexpressionwhenIaskedaboutJacereplaysinmyhead,andI’m
sureI’mnotmisreadingthis.
Itake a showerto try tocalmmy nervesandsettle my mind,but it doesn’t
work;thisfeelinginthepitofmystomachpushesmetocomeupwithanother
option.WhenIgetoutoftheshower,Iblow-drymyhairandgetmyselfdressed
whileIdecidewhattodonext.
I feel a little like Miss Havisham in Great Expectations, plotting and
scheming.Ihadnevercaredforhercharacter,butsuddenlyIfindmyselfrelating
to her. I can now see how love can make you do things that you normally
wouldn’t,likebecomeobsessiveandevenalittlecrazy.Though,inreality,my
planreallyisn’tallthatcrazyornearlyasdramaticasitseemsinmyhead.All
I’mgoingtodoisfindStephandaskherifsheknowswhyHardinandZedgot
intoafight,thenseewhatsheknowsaboutJace.Theonlythingthatmakesthis
plancrazyisthatHardinwillloseitwhenhefindsoutthatIcalledZedandwent
toSteph.
Nowthat I thinkabout it,Hardinhasn’ttakenme around anyof hisfriends
sincewemovedintogether—makingitlikelynoneofthemactuallyknowabout
ournewlivingarrangement.
BY THE TIME I leave the apartment, my thoughts are jumbled and I end up
leavingmy phone on the counter.It beginsto snow assoon as I pull onto the
freeway, soit takesme overthirty minutesto get to the dorms. They look the
same as I remember—of course they do. It has been only a week since I left
them,eventhoughitseemssomuchlonger.
Marchingupthehallway,Iignoretherudestarefromthebleachblondewho
yelledatHardinforspillingvodkaoutsideherdoor.ThatfirstnightthatHardin
stayedinmydormwithmeseemssodistant;timehasn’tmadesensesinceImet
him.WhenIknockonmyolddoor,there’snoanswer.Ofcoursesheisn’there;
she’s never here. She spends the majority of her time at Tristan and Nate’s
apartment,andIhavenoideawherethatis.EvenifIdid,wouldIgothere?
IgetintomycarandtrytoformulateanewplanwhileIdrivearound.This
mighthavebeeneasierifIhadn’tforgottenmyphone,butjustasI’maboutto
give up on my radical decision to practically stalk my old roommate, I pass
BlindBob’s, thebikerbarIwenttowithSteph.RecognizingNate’s car inthe
lot,Ipullin.Itakeadeepbreathbeforegettingout,andwhenIfinallydo,the
coldairburnsmynostrils.ThewomanatthefrontsmilesatmewhenIenter,and
I’mrelievedwhenIspotSteph’sredhairfromacrosstheroom.
IfonlyIhadknownwhatwastocome.
chapterninety-six
Nervousness overtakes me as I walk through the smoky bar. Why did I think
thiswasagoodidea?Hardinisgoingtobefuriouswithme,andStephmayjust
thinkI’minsane.
Whenshe sees me,a big smile fills Steph’s faceand she practicallyshouts,
“Tessa,whatthehellareyoudoinghere?”beforepullingmeintoahug.
“I...well,Iwaslookingforyou,”Isay.
“Iseverythingokay?Ordidyoujustmissme?”Shelaughs.
“Ijustmissedyou.”Idecidetogowiththatfornow.
“Ihaven’tseenyouinages,Tessa,”Nateteasesandthenhugsme.“Wherehas
Hardinbeenhidingyou?”
Tristan appears behind Steph and wraps his arms around her waist. By the
waysheleansbackagainsthim,Iknowtheyhaveworkedthroughthefightover
Molly.
Shesmiles.“Comesitwithus—it’sjustusfornow.”
Fornow?IwonderifshemeansthatHardinwillbeheresoon?Ifollowthe
three of them to a booth, dreading the answer to that question. A question I
choosenottoask,andinsteadorderaburgerand fries. I haven’teatenallday
andit’spastthreeintheafternoon.
“And I’ll make sure there is no ketchup,” the waitress says with a knowing
smile and walks back to the kitchen. Clearly she remembers the scene Hardin
madethelasttimeIwashere.
IpickatmymanicuredfingersasIwaitforthewaitresstobringmemyCoke.
“Youmissedonehellofapartylastnight,Tessa,”Natesays.Heliftshisglass
andgulpsdowntheremainderofhisbeer.
“Yeah?”Ismile.ThemostfrustratingpartofmyrelationshipwithHardinis
that I never know what I’m allowed to tell people. If I were in a normal
relationship,Iwouldrespondwith“Ohyeah,wehadagreattimelastnightathis
father’swedding.”Butsincemyrelationshipisfarfromnormal,Istayquiet.
“Yeah,itwaswild.Wewentouttothedocksinsteadofthefrathouse.”He
laughs. “We get away with more at the docks and we don’t have to clean up
after.”
“Oh.DoesJaceliveatthedocks?”Itrytokeepmytoneneutral.
“What?No,thedocksareboatdocks.Heworksthereduringtheday,though.
Helivesclosebythem.”
“Oh...”Ichewonmystraw.
“Itwasfreezing,andTristanherewasplasteredandjumpedintothecold-ass
water.”Stephsnorts,andTristanflipsheroffplayfully.
“Itwasn’ttoobad;mybodywasnumbthesecondIhitthewater,”hejokes.
MyfoodarrivesalongwithTristan’swingsandaroundofbeersforthethree
ofthem.
“Yousureyoudon’twantabeer?Shewon’tcardyou,”Natetellsme.
“Oh,no,Ihavetodrive.Thanks,though.”
“Sohow’syournewdorm?”Stephasksandstealsafryfrommyplate.
“Mywhat?”
“Yournewdorm?”sherepeatsslowly.
“Idon’thaveanewdorm.”DidHardintellherImovedintoanotherdorm?
“Uh,yeah,youdo,becauseyoudon’tliveinmineanymore.Allofyourstuff
wasgoneandHardinsaidyouchangeddorms,thatyourmomflippedoutonyou
orsomething.”Shetakesabigswigfromherbeer.
IdecidethatIdon’tcarehowpissedHardingetsatme—I’mnotgoingtolie.
I’minfuriated andembarrassed thathe isstill hidingour relationship.“Hardin
andImovedintoanapartment,”Itellthem.
“What?”Steph,Nate,andTristansayatthesametime.
“Yes,lastweek.Wemovedintogetherabouttwentyminutesfromcampus,”I
explain.AllthreeofthemarelookingatmeasifIhavegrownasecondhead.
“What?”Iaskharshly.
“Nothing. It’s just . . . wow . . . I don’t know. That’s just a really huge
surprise,”Stephsays.
“Why?” I snap. I know it isn’t fair to direct my anger toward her when it’s
meantforHardin,butIcan’thelpit.
She frowns and looks like she’s pondering something. “I don’tknow; I just
can’tpictureHardinlivingwithsomeone,that’sall.Ididn’tknowyoutwowere
thatserious.Iwishyouwouldhavetoldme.”
AsI am aboutto ask herwhat shemeansby that,Nate’sandTristan’s eyes
darttothedoor,thenbacktome.WhenIturnaround,IseeMolly,Hardin,and
Jacestandinginthedoorway.Hardinshakessomesnowfromhishairandwipes
his boots on the straw mat. I turn around quickly, my heart beating out of my
chest.Therearetoomanythingsgoingonatonce:MollyiswithHardin,which
pissesmeoffbeyondwords.JaceiswithHardin,whichconfusesthehelloutof
me. And I just told everyone that we moved in together, which they seem
unsettledby.
“Tessa.”Hardin’svoiceisangryfrombehindme.
Ilookupathim,andhisfaceistwistedinanger.Heistryingtocontrolit,I
can tell, but it’s about to boil over. “I need to talk to you,” he says through
clenchedteeth.
“Rightnow?”Isay,tryingtosoundcasualbuthard-edged.
“Yes.Now,”heanswersandreachesouttograbmyarm.Iquicklyclimbout
oftheboothandfollowhimtothecornerofthesmallbar.“Whatthehellareyou
doinghere?”hesaysquietly,hisfaceinchesfrommine.
“IcametohangoutwithSteph.”Notexactlyalie,butnotthetruth,either.
He calls me out. “Bullshit.” He is struggling to keep his voice down, but
we’vealreadydrawntheattentionofmorethanafewpatrons.“Youneedtogo,”
hetellsme.
“Excuseme?”Iretort,stealingoneofhisfamouslines.
“Youneedtogohome.”
“Homewhere?Backtomynewdorm?”Ichallenge.Thecolordrainsfromhis
face.“Yup,Itoldthem.Itoldthemthatwelivetogether—howcouldyounot?
Doyouknowhowstupidthatmakesmelook?Ithoughtwewerepastyoutrying
tokeepmeasecret.”
“Iwasn’t...”helies.
“I am sick of the secrets and deception, Hardin. Every time I think we are
doingsogreat—”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. I was just waiting.” Hardin’s
thoughtsseemjumbled.Icanalmostseetheinternalbattlebeingwagedbehind
hisgreeneyes.Hiseyesfranticallyscantheroom,andhispanicworriesme.
“Ican’tkeepdoingthis—youknowthat,don’tyou?”Itellhim.
“Yeah,Iknow.”Hesighsandpullshislipringbetweenhisteethandrunshis
handthroughhisdamphair.“Canwegohomeandtalkaboutthis?”heasksand
Inod.
Ifollowhimback totheboothswhereeveryoneisseated.“Wearegoingto
go,”Hardinannounces.
Jacegivesasinistergrin.“Sosoon?”
Hardin’sshoulderstense.“Yeah,”heanswers.
“Backtoyourapartment?”Stephasks,andIshootaglareather.Notnow,I
silentlyscreamather.
“Yourwhat?” Molly cackles. I could have gone the rest of my life without
seeingheragain,really.
“Theirapartment;theylivetogether,”Stephsaysinasingsongvoice.Iknow
sheisonlytryingtoshoveitdownMolly’sthroat,andusuallyIwouldapplaud
herforit,butI’mtooangryatHardintofocusonMolly.
“Well, well, well.” Molly taps her long crimson nails on the table. “That’s
veryinteresting,”shesays,staringatHardin.
“Molly...”hewarns.IswearIseepanicflashacrosshisface.
Sheraisesaneyebrow.“You’rereallytakingthiswholethingalittlefar,aren’t
you?”
“Molly,IsweartoGod,ifyoudon’tshutthefuckup—”
“Whatthing?Whatishetakingtoofar?”Ican’thelpbutask.
“Tessa,gooutside,”hecommands,butIignorehim.
“No,whatishetakingtoofar?Tellme!”Iyell.
“Wait.You’re in on it,aren’tyou?”She laughs and continues, “I knew it!I
toldJaceyouknew,buthewouldn’tbelieveme.Hardin,youoweZedsomebig
bucksforthis.”Shethrowsherheadbackandstandsup.
Hardin’s faceiscompletelypale;allthebloodseemstobedrainedfromhis
entirebody.MyheadisswimmingandI’msoconfused.IbrieflyglanceatNate,
Tristan,andSteph,buttheyareallfocusedonHardin.
“Knewwhat?”Myvoiceisshaky.Hardingrabsmyarmandtriestopullme
away,butIjerkoutofhisgripandmoveovertostandinfrontofMolly.
“Don’t play stupid with me, I know you know. What did he do? Split the
moneywithyou?”sheasks.
Hardinreachesformy hand,andhisfingersareicecold.“Tessa...” Ijerk
awayandstareathim,myeyeswide.
“Tellme!Whatisshe talkingabout!”Iyelltohim.Tearsthreatenmyeyes,
andIstruggletokeepdownalltheemotionsstormingthroughme.
Hardinastoundsmebyopeninghismouthandthenclosingitagain.
“OhmyGod,youreallydon’tknow?Oh,thisisamazing.Everyonepullupa
seat!”shemocks.
“Molly,don’t,”Stephsays.
“You sure you wanna know, princess?” Molly continues, giving me a
triumphantsmile.
I can literally hear the blood pounding behind my ears, and for a second I
wonderifeveryoneelsecan,too.“Tellme,”Idemand.
Shetiltsherheadslightly...butthenpauses.“No,IthinkHardinshouldtell
her.”Andshestartsgiggling,slidinghertongueringbetweenherteeth,making
themosthorrendousrattling,worsethannailsonachalkboard.
chapterninety-seven
Everything is happening too fast for me to comprehend. I’m confused, and
when I look around the room, I see that I’m surrounded by people who have
tauntedmenomatterhardItriedtofitinwiththem,andIknowthatIcan’ttrust
asingleoneofthem.
What’sgoingon?WhyisHardinjuststandingthere?What’shappening?
“Isecondthat,”Jacechimesinandliftshisbeerinsalute.“Goon,Hardin,tell
her.”
“I...Iwilltellyououtside,”Hardinsays,hisvoicelow.
Ilookintohisbrillianteyes,whichseemwildwithdesperationandconfusion.
Idon’tknowwhatisgoingon,butIdoknowIdon’twanttogoanywherewith
him.
“No,youtellmehere.Infrontofthemsoyoucan’tlie.”Myheartisalready
achingandIknowthatIamnotpreparedforwhateverheisgettingreadytotell
me.
Hepauses,fidgetingwithhisfingersbeforehespeaks.“I’msorry.”Heholds
hishandsoutinfrontofhim.“Tessa,youhavetorememberthatthiswasway
beforeIevenknewyou.”Hiseyesarebeggingformercy.
Idon’ttrustmyvoice,andIbarelyopenmymouthwhenIspeak.“Tellme.”
“Thatnight...thatsecondnight...thesecondpartyyoucameto,whenwe
playedTruthorDare...andNateaskedifyouwereavirgin...”Hecloseshis
eyesasiftogatherhisthoughts.
Ohno.Ifitwaspossibleformyhearttosinkevenlower,itwouldhave.This
isn’thappening.Thiscan’tbehappening.Notrightnow.Nottome.
“Goon...”Jacesaysandleansforwardlikethisisthebestthinghe’sever
seen.Hardinshootshimdaggers,andIknowthatifHardinweren’tinthemiddle
ofsingle-handedlydestroyingourrelationship,hewouldkillthatvilemanonthe
spot.
“Yousaidyouwere...andthatgavesomeoneanidea—”
“Gavewhotheidea?”Mollyinterrupts.
“Me . . . gave me the idea,” he admits. His eyes never leave mine. Which
doesn’tmakethisanyeasier.“That...itcouldbefuntomake...tomakea
bet.”Hisheadfalls,andtearspourfrommyeyes.
“No,”Ichokeandtakeastepbackward.
Confusionramsintomyalready-jumbledthoughts,disruptinganyattemptto
makesenseof them, tomakesenseof whatI’mhearing.Confusion is quickly
replacedbyaburningmixtureofpainandanger.Allofthememoriesflooding
throughmepileandpiecetogether...
“Stayawayfromhim.”“Becareful.”“Sometimesyouthinkyouknowpeople,
butyoudon’t.”“ButTessa,Ineedtotellyousomething.”
All of the small remarks that were made by Molly, Jace, and even Hardin
himself play over and over. There was always something in the back of my
mind,afeelingthatIwasmissingsomething.Alloftheairseemstobesucked
outofthesmallroom,andIfindmyselfalmostgaspingastherealityofallthis
setsin.Thereweresomanyclues;IjustwastooblindedbyHardintoseethem.
Whywouldhetakeitthisfar?Tohavemelivewithhim?
“Youknew?”IturntoSteph.Ican’tlookatHardinanylonger.
“I . . . I was going to tell you so many times, Tess,” she says, her eyes
brimmingwithguiltytears.
“I didn’t believe it when he claimed he won, even with the condom,” Jace
snickers,enjoyingtheshow.
“Right?Me,either!Thesheets,though.Imean,howcanyoudenybloodon
thesheets!”Mollylaughs.
Thesheets.That’swhytheywerestillinhiscar...
I know I should be saying something, anything, but I can’t find my voice.
Everythingisstillmovingaroundme;peopleinthebarareeatinganddrinking,
notnoticingthenaïve girltenfeetawayfromthemhavingher heartshattered.
HowisitpossiblethattimestillmovesasIstandherewatchingTristanbowhis
head,watchingStephcry,and,mostofall,watchingHardinwatchme.
“Tessa,Iamsosorry.”Hetakesasteptowardme,butIcan’tevenmovemy
feettorunawaylikeIneedto.
Molly’s harpy voice breaks through the air. “You know, there is a sort of
dramaherethateveryonehastoappreciate.Imean,rememberlasttimewewere
all here and Steph gave Tessa that ridiculous makeover, and Hardin and Zed
were trying to battle over who took her back to her room?” She laughs, then
continues:“ThenHardinshoweduptoyourroom,right?Withthatvodka!You
thoughthewasdrunk!DoyourememberwhenIcalledhimwhenhewasthere?”
For a moment she looks at me like she actually expects I’ll answer her. “But
reallyhewassupposedtowinthebetthatnight.Hewasprettycockyaboutit,
butZedkeptsayingyouwouldn’tgiveitupthatquick.IguessZedwasright,
butyoustillgaveitupquickerthanIthoughtyouwould,soIsupposeit’sagood
thingIdidn’tbetanymoney...”
Molly’sterriblesoundsandHardin’seyesaretheonlythinginthebar.
Ihaveneverfeltthiswaybefore.Thislevelofhumiliationandlossisworse
thanIcould ever haveimagined.Hardinhas been playingmethis entire time;
thiswasallagametohim.Allthehugs,thekisses,thesmiles,thelaughs,the“I
loveyou’s,”thesex,theplans—andfuckifthisdoesn’tburnlikenothingelsein
the world. He had every move planned, every night, every single detail, and
everyoneknewexceptme.EvenSteph,whoIthoughtwasbecomingafriend.I
glanceathim,allowingmyselfamomentofweaknessduringtheshock, andI
wishIhadn’t.He’sjuststandingthere—standingtherelikemyentireworldisn’t
crashing around me and he hasn’t completely humiliated me in front of
everyone.
“You’dbehappytoknowthatyouwereworthaprettypenny,though,even
though Zed tried to bitch out a few times. But with Jace, Logan, and Zed’s
money,Ihopeheatleastboughtyoudinner!”Mollysays,laughing.
Jace finishes his beer and howls. “I’m only disappointed that I missed the
infamous I Love You! announcement in front of everyone. I heard that was a
killer.”
“Shutthefuckup!”Tristansurpriseseveryonebyyelling.IfIwasn’tnumb,he
mayhavesurprisedme,too.“Fuckyouguys.Shehasalreadyhadenough!”
Hardintakesanotherstep.“Baby,pleasesaysomething.”
And with his little “baby” plea, my brain finally connects with my mouth.
“Don’tyoufuckingdarecall me that! Howcouldyoudothis to me?You...
you...Ican’t...”Ihavesomanythingsinmyheadtosay,buttheyjustwon’t
comeout. “And I won’tsay anything, because that’s what youwant.” I sound
muchmoreconfidentthanIfeelinside.InsideIamburning,andmyheartison
thefloor,underneathHardin’sboot.
“IknowImessedup—”hebegins.
“Youmessedup?Youmessedup?” Iscream.“Why?Justtellmewhy.Why
me?”
“Becauseyouwerethere,”hesays.Andhishonestyonlybreaksmefurther.
“Andachallenge.Ididn’tknowyou,Tessa.Ididn’tknow that I wouldfallin
lovewithyou.”
Hismentionoflovecarrieswithittheoppositefeelingthanithasthepastfew
weeks, and I can taste the bile in the back of my throat. “You’re sick. You’re
fuckingsick!”Iscreamandrushtothedoor.
Thisistoomuchforme.Hardin’shandwrapsaroundmyarmandIjerkaway,
turningandslappinghim.Hard.
Thepaininhisexpressiongivesmethemostpainfulsatisfaction.
“Youruinedeverything!”Iscream.“Youtooksomethingfrommethatwasn’t
yours,Hardin.Thatwasmeantforsomeonewholovedme,lovedmetruthfully.
It was his, whoever he is, and you took that—for money? I ruined my
relationshipwithmymotherforyou.Igaveupeverything!Ihadsomeonewho
lovedme,someonewhowouldn’thurtmethewayyoudid.Youaredisgusting.”
“Idoloveyou,Tessa.Iloveyoumorethananything.Iwasgoingtotellyou.I
triedtogetthemnottotellyou.Ineverwantedyoutofindout.That’swhyIwas
outallnight,gettingthemtoagreenottosayanything.Iwasgoingtotellyou
soon,nowthatwelivetogether,becausethenitwouldn’tmatter.”
Ihavenocontroloverthewordstumblingfrommylips.“Areyou...you...
ohmyGod,Hardin!Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?Youthinkgoingaround
convincingpeopletonottellmeisokay?ThefactthatIwouldn’tknowwould
make it all okay? You thought that if we lived together, I would let this go?
That’swhyyouweresodeterminedformynametobeonthelease!OhmyGod.
Youaresick!”
EverysmalldetailthatmademethinktwicesinceImetHardinallpointsto
this.Itwassoobvious.“That’swhyyouwentandgotmystuffformefrommy
room,becauseyouwereafraidStephwouldtellme!”
EveryoneinthebarisstaringandIfeelsosmall,sobrokenandsmall.
“Whatdidyoudowiththemoney,Hardin?”
“I—”hebegins,thenstops.
“Tellme,”Idemand.
“Yourcar...thepaint...andthedepositfortheapartment.IthoughtifI...
Iwasgoingtotellyousomanytimes,onceIknewitwasn’tjustabetanymore.
Iloveyou—Ilovedyoutheentiretime,Iswearit,”hesays.
“You kept the condom to show them, Hardin! You showed them the sheets,
thebloodyfuckingsheets!”Iwrapmyhandsinmyhairandtugatit.“Ohmy
God!I’msuchanidiot.WhileIwasrelivingeverydetailofthebestnightofmy
life,youwereshowingyourfriendsthesheets.”
“Iknow...Idon’thaveanyexcuse...butyouhavetoforgiveme.Wecan
figurethisout,”hesays.
AndIlaugh.Areallaugh.Despitemytears,Ifindmyselflaughing;I’mlosing
mymind.Thissceneisn’tplayingoutlikeinthemovies.I’mnotholdingmyself
together.I’mnothandlingthenewselegantlywithasimplegasporasingletear
trailingdownmycheek.Iamcrying,pullingatmyownhair,andambarelyable
tocontrolmyemotionsandformafullsentence.
“Forgive you?” I laugh madly. “You have ruined my entire life—you know
that, don’t you? Oh, of course you do. That was your plan the entire time,
remember?Youpromisedyouwould‘ruinme.’Socongratulations,Hardin,you
have.WhatshouldIgiveyou,money?OrshouldIfindanothervirginforyou?”
Heshiftsalittle,asiftoblockoutmyviewoftheothersatthetable.“Tessa,
please.YouknowIloveyou,Iknowyoudo.Let’sgohome,please,andIwill
tellyoueverything.”
“Home?Thatisn’tmyhome.Itneverhasbeen;webothknowthat.”Itryfor
thedooragain.Iamsoclose.
“What can I do? I’ll do anything,” he begs. With his eyes still focused on
mine,hebendsdown.I’mconfusedforasecondbeforeIrealizeheisgettingon
hiskneesinfrontofme.
“You?Nothing.Thereisnothingyoucandoformeanymore,Hardin.”
IfIknewwhattosaytohurthimasbadlyashehashurtme,Iwould.AndI
wouldrepeatit athousandtimes, just sohe would knowhow it feelsto be so
completelyblindsidedandrippedapart.
Itakeoffforthedoor,takingadvantageofHardin’spositiononhisknees.As
soonasIreachthedoor,Icrashintosomeone.IlookuptofindZed,hisbattered
facestillrecoveringfromtheinjuriesthatHardincaused.
“What’swrong?”heasksandgrabsmyelbows.Thenhisgazetravelsbehind
metoHardinandrealizationfillshiseyes.
“I’msorry...”hesays,butIignorehim.Hardiniscoming,andIhavetoget
thehellawayfromthisbar,fromhim.
ThefreezingairwhipsmyhairinfrontofmyfaceassoonasIgetoutside.I
welcome the feeling, hoping it will cool the burning inside me. Snow has
blanketedmycarandthestreets.
Zed’s voicecallsfrombehindme,“Youcan’tdrive, Tessa.” Ikeeptrudging
throughthesnow,acrosstheparkinglot.
“Leavemealone!Iknowyouwereinonit!Youallwere!”Iscreamanddig
formykeys.
“Letmetakeyouhome—youareinnoconditiontodriveinthisstorm,”he
says.AsIopenmymouthtoscreamathim,Hardinwalksoutside.
I look at the person I once thought was the love of my life, who I thought
wouldmakeeverydayafterwemetspecial,andwild,andfree.AndthenIlook
atZed.
“Okay,”Isay.
TheclickofZed’scarbeingunlockedismycuetogetinasfastasIcan.The
second Hardin realizes that I’m leaving with Zed, he runs toward the car. His
facetwistsinanger,andIhopeforZed’ssakehegetsintothecarbeforeHardin
reachesus.
Zedjumpsinandtakesoff.IlookoverandwatchHardinfalltohiskneesfor
thesecondtimetonight.
“Iamsosorry,Tessa.Ihadnoideaitwouldgetthatoutofhand—”hestarts,
butIcuthimoff.
“Don’ttalktome.”
Ican’tstandtohearanymore.Ican’ttakeit.I’msicktomystomach,andthe
painofHardin’sbetrayaliscuttingatme,makingmeweakerandweakerbythe
moment. I’m convinced that if Zed speaks, there will be nothing left of me. I
needtoknowwhyHardindidwhathedid,butI’mhonestlyterrifiedwhatwill
happenifIhearit,allofit.Ihaven’tfeltpainlikethisbeforeandI’mnotsure
howtohandleit,orifIcanatall.Zednods,andwedriveinsilenceforafew
minutes.IthinkofHardin,ofMolly,ofJaceandtherest,andsomethinginme
shifts.Somethingmakesmebraver.“Youknowwhat?”Iturntohim.“Dotalkto
me.Tellmeeverything.Everysingledetail.”
Withworriedeyeshesearchesmyfaceforamoment,andthen,realizinghe
hasnochoice,saysaquiet“Okay”asweturnontothefreeway.
acknowledgments
TheAfterserieswouldn’thavebeenpossiblewithoutsomanypeople.Icould
write another book thanking you all (you know that I could, and probably
actuallywould),butIhaveonlyalittlespacehere,soI’llmakeitasshortand
sweetaspossible.
Author’snote:First,IwanttothankmyHessashippers/Afternators/Toddlers
(leastfavorite,ha)/originalreaders(weclearlycouldn’tdecideonjustonename,
ha).Youguyshavebeenherefromthestartandareliterallythebestgroupof
people;youare so supportive,andyou make mylife.Everyword was written
because of you and your passion for my storytelling. You are amazing and
“ilysm.”
Wattpadisnext, ofcourse. Withoutyouall believinginme andhelping me
bring After to life, my dreams wouldn’t be coming true. Always remember
wherethisstartedandthatyouallhadapartincreatingsomethingsobig.Never
giveuponyourselves,and pleaseremember(IknowItellyoutoomuch)that
tomorrowisalwaysbetterthanyouthinkitwillbe.Youareimportantandloved,
evenwhenitdoesn’tfeelthatway.
AmyMartin,forfightingformyvisionandpushingAfteruntiltheygotit.
CandiceandAshleigh,youbothhavedonesomuchforme,andIcouldnever
repayyouforanyofit.
IwanttothankGalleryBooksforbelievinginAfterandinme,andforgiving
meAdamWilsonasthebestandmostlivelyeditor.Adam,youarejuststraight-
upamazingandfunny,andyourcommentsalwaysmakemelaugh.Yougetme,
my sense of humor (cheesy jokes and all), and you get Hardin and Tessa in a
waythat notmany peopledo. Youhave beenso helpful and made this such a
smoothandquicktransitionandjourney.
Myparentsandmymother-in-law,youlovedmeandsupportedmeeachstep
oftheway.
Kaci,foryourlistsandencouragement.(Insertouremoji.)
ToJordan,myhusband,whomI’velovedsinceIwasakid.Youhavegiven
me the time to make my dreams come true, and you put up with my endless
hoursofwritingandtweeting.AndyouonlycomplainedalittlewhenIshowed
youthousandsofHessaedits.
I’mrunningoutofroomhere,soIhavetogo.ButIloveyouallsomuch,and
Iamsogratefultohaveallofyouinmylife.
AUTHORPHOTOBYJ.D.WITKOWSKI
ANNA TODD is a first-time writer spending her days in the Austin area with her husband,
with whom she beat half the statistics by getting married one month after graduating high
school.Betweenherhusband’sthreedeploymentstoIraq,sheworkedoddjobsfromamakeup
counter to the IRS processing center. Anna was always an avid reader and boy band and
romancelover,sonowthatshe’sfoundawaytocombinethethree,she’senjoyinglivingareal-
lifedreamcometrue.
Find her at AnnaToddBooks.com, on Twitter at @imaginator1dx, on Instagram at
@imaginator1d,andonWattpadasImaginator1D.
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Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Anyreferencestohistoricalevents,realpeople,orrealplacesareused
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LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData
Todd,Anna.
After/AnnaTodd.
pagescm.—(Theafterseries)
1. Lovestories. 2. Collegestories. I. Title.
PS3620.O275A69 2014
813'.6—dc23 2014031296
ISBN978-1-4767-9248-4
ISBN978-1-5011-0399-5(ebook)
contents
Prologue
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-One
ChapterTwenty-Two
ChapterTwenty-Three
ChapterTwenty-Four
ChapterTwenty-Five
ChapterTwenty-Six
ChapterTwenty-Seven
ChapterTwenty-Eight
ChapterTwenty-Nine
ChapterThirty
ChapterThirty-One
ChapterThirty-Two
ChapterThirty-Three
ChapterThirty-Four
ChapterThirty-Five
ChapterThirty-Six
ChapterThirty-Seven
ChapterThirty-Eight
ChapterThirty-Nine
ChapterForty
ChapterForty-One
ChapterForty-Two
ChapterForty-Three
ChapterForty-Four
ChapterForty-Five
ChapterForty-Six
ChapterForty-Seven
ChapterForty-Eight
ChapterForty-Nine
ChapterFifty
ChapterFifty-One
ChapterFifty-Two
ChapterFifty-Three
ChapterFifty-Four
ChapterFifty-Five
ChapterFifty-Six
ChapterFifty-Seven
ChapterFifty-Eight
ChapterFifty-Nine
ChapterSixty
ChapterSixty-One
ChapterSixty-Two
ChapterSixty-Three
ChapterSixty-Four
ChapterSixty-Five
ChapterSixty-Six
ChapterSixty-Seven
ChapterSixty-Eight
ChapterSixty-Nine
ChapterSeventy
ChapterSeventy-One
ChapterSeventy-Two
ChapterSeventy-Three
ChapterSeventy-Four
ChapterSeventy-Five
ChapterSeventy-Six
ChapterSeventy-Seven
ChapterSeventy-Eight
ChapterSeventy-Nine
ChapterEighty
ChapterEighty-One
ChapterEighty-Two
ChapterEighty-Three
ChapterEighty-Four
ChapterEighty-Five
ChapterEighty-Six
ChapterEighty-Seven
ChapterEighty-Eight
ChapterEighty-Nine
ChapterNinety
ChapterNinety-One
ChapterNinety-Two
ChapterNinety-Three
ChapterNinety-Four
ChapterNinety-Five
ChapterNinety-Six
ChapterNinety-Seven
Acknowledgments
AboutAnnaTodd
